I think back on the time when Mari was in the hospital. When she had made it to her fourth and final hospital, I was told by one of the nurses about CarePages. She told me it was a way to keep family and friends updated on Mari and how she was doing. I couldn’t wait to get started. We had so many people constantly calling at that point to get updates.
After a few days of getting entries entered I began to hear how much the updates had touched someone. They’d tell me how they felt like they were there with us instead of 2,000 miles away. They said that they cried reading through the whole thing. And then they’d said what a good writer I was.
Well, I didn’t believe it. I’d never had the confidence in myself with writing. I’ve always struggled with English and grammar. I have a learning disability called Dyslexia and it made things harder for me than for the average person. However, over time, I’ve been able to learn how to compensate for the disability. I’ve never let it stop me from doing something I wanted to do. However, whenever someone would tell me I was a good writer I always would come back with that I wasn’t. I was just writing updates.
The thing is I kept hearing over and over again is how someone would feel like I was a good writer. I didn’t get it. How could updates be considered writing? I was just giving details. After 30 plus years of not believing in yourself when it comes to writing, being told a few times they think you are good won’t make you believe it. It did, however, get me to thinking. What if I could write a book about Mari and her life.
Then after Mari passed, about three months later, I had a bunch of thoughts swirling around in my head that I had to get written down and so I did. Those very words were the first ones that started her dedication website. So many people wanted to know how I was doing after she died. I thought that might be a good way to keep people informed. So on October 21, 2008 I began her site.
The last six years have been a time of both grieving and healing. I’ve been able to use writing as a way to help me get through. It’s become my outlet. And through this I’ve written Mari’s memoir as well as a fiction book. Who woulda thunk. Me, a writer. A little over two years ago I officially started to call myself a writer. It took being told many times over and over again that I was a good writer to finally believe it.
I feel blessed to have been given this gift. To know that my words have touched another person is humbling. My sincerest hope is that I will always be able to continue to do this. And it all goes back to receiving the much-needed approval. Whether we want to admit it or not, we all need to have it in our lives.