Thank you

This week my mother leaves the house she’s lived in for the past forty years and moves to Virginia. Tomorrow my second novel launches—a book I spent four years writing and rewriting and editing and rewriting again. In a few weeks, my eldest daughter leaves home for her first year of college. It feels like my life is on fast forward, all these major life events crammed into a short period of time, life sharp and intense as the taste of ripe summer raspberries.

I’m savoring every minute. A year ago at this time, life was also sharp and intense, with one hard thing after another. My father died suddenly. My daughter fell seriously ill. My father-in-law died. I came down with pneumonia and was too sick to attend his funeral. Every day I thought, “What next?”

So right now all I think is, “Thank you.” I’m grateful my mother is healthy and so willing to start a new adventure at this stage in her life. I’m grateful my daughter, who is so lively and curious and smart and funny, has the opportunity to go on to college. I’m grateful that this book, which is so close to my heart, will be out there in the world. Let’s face it, I’m OLD (okay, middle-aged) and never expected to have work I love this much at this stage of my life. At the risk of sounding all Sally-Field-gushing-at-the-Oscars-like, I’m grateful I have Ann Rittenberg , my agent, who believes in me, and a husband who works hard so I have the freedom to write, and terrific friends who read my lousy drafts and encourage me to keep writing and make me laugh.

I’ll kick up my heels at my book launch party tomorrow night, hug many friends, dance, laugh a lot, drink wine, glow in my moment. But I haven’t forgotten last summer, which makes these days all the sweeter.