Writing fact, fiction, faction, or even fantasy, putting pen
and paper in my hand can transport me to another time
and place or to another land. Painting word pictures can
create imaginative stories and games for children or
help the blind to see.
As a child the other children and in the neighborhood
and I put on plays that I wrote. But it is the adult
years that have played important roles in my life and
helped to keep me sane.
After the major car wreck in Michigan my doctors
and attorney told me to journal. When the seizures
became severe journaling is what helped me to survive.
If I didn’t journal I would forget the events of the day.
But then the next day I would not even remember that
I journaled. The journaling helped me to stay sane.
Writing was My Happy Place.
Photography is another love. Someone told me to use
my photos with my writings which I have done in books.
However, the photos have inspired writings. So again
Writing is My Happy Place.
Genealogy is another love. I was asked to write two
separate articles at two different times. The one about
Professor Stephen Goodrich is the one that thrilled me
most. For someone to have that much faith in my writing
really excited me. Both articles were published in the
Goodrich Family Quarterly Newsletters. The one about
Professor Goodrich I was told to enter into the ISFHWE
writing contest. ISFHWE stands for International Society
of Family History Writers and Editors. I didn’t win an
award but the newsletter it was in came in third. The
content in the newsletter is what earned that award.
Writing once more was My Happy Place.
Regarding the article about Professor Goodrich, my
husband and my name are in the bibliography for
something we translated. My article is the only one
I have found about his life that was not totally scientific.
I chronicled his life.
Through my research and contact with a genealogist
group in the UK I was able to locate his burial place.
He died in 1946 so that was an accomplishment.
I sent my article and that information to the college
where he last taught. They helped me for free.
Writing has gained me accolades, my own bi-line,
brought forth poems and prose in me, both happy
and sad. I processed my journaling which helped
me to understand my emotions and helped to keep
me sane.
In spite of being in a major car wreck five days after
my 48th birthday, receiving severe injuries to my brain,
not being hospitalized till two weeks later, a seizure
disorder, long battles with social security, and battles
with depression but not giving in I have accomplished
much, the seizures are now under control and so is
the cyst on my brain.
There have been battles with my legs being able to
walk, not being able to walk, walking short distances
in the house and using a motorized scooter and a
wheelchair. Not being able to work and not having
an income. Being homeless and without food. My
dog and I lived out of my van for three months
while in my fifties. So I understand what it’s like
to be homeless, without food and clothing. When
workers compensation doctors neglect to turn
in documents to the workers compensation
insurance company that really smarts because that
puts the recipient without funds.
I was born on Frank Sinatra’s birthday. Singing is
another love but it has been writing that has saved my life.
At the tender age of 78, like the energizer bunny and
still going and going and going. I ain’t giving up. As
long as I can write, type, or record with my voice,
Writing will be My Happy Place.
I was told I will have a pen and pad in my hand at
my own funeral. I will never give up.
No doubt about it Writing has always been
My Happy Place.
