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I Remember
It was 3 am and I hadnÕt slept in four days. The reason was cradled in my arms. She was three weeks old and my wife and I were brand new parents. Standing at the top of the stairs, the only comfort I could find was in the thought: ŅWhen she turns 18 years old sheÕll move out, and IÕll be able to sleep.Ó
I didnÕt know it at the time, but I was beginning an adventurous life. Looking back at the last 28 years I see nothing but stories Š some sad, others happy, but all cherished. God blessed my life with a wonderful family, interesting people and lots of travel. When she was younger, I frequently pulled our daughter out of school because I wanted her to see the world rather than just read about it. Some people told me I shouldnÕt do that, especially the school, but IÕm glad I did. To this day, our daughter loves adventure, travel, family, her husband and their son. She inherited the adventure trait, and their 18 month old son is picking it up quickly.
What does all of this have to do with writers ŅInspiration/Block (for the writer)?Ó I think itÕs obvious Š I never lack inspiration or have writerÕs block because God lets me experience so many interesting things. They may not be interesting to you, and you may not want to read about them, but I love them and keep writing. I cherish my stories because they help me remember.
There was the time we were scuba diving in Turks and Caicos, and our then ten year old daughter refused to get out of the water before sunset. SheÕd swim all morning, eat lunch, swim all afternoon, eat supper and swim some more. She was not happy when I made her get out of the water to go to bed. After three days of this, she woke up Wednesday morning with a puffed face from sun poisoning. The local doctor treated her and told her to stay out of the sun for the rest of the trip. I took several pictures of her puffed face. Today we laugh ourselves silly when we look at them together. Now having a son, who loves to be outside, she insists that he be lathered in lotion and wear a hat. I know that will come to an end when he can run faster than her.
On another of our adventures, we delivered pistol parts for the US Army. I drove the van and she navigated. We listened to the radio, traveled the southeastern states and ended in Washington DC. I stood next to her at the Viet Nam War memorial wall. She saw friends and families weep when they found their loved oneÕs name. She heard a father say how proud he was of his son, even though he had not seem him in over thirty years. She saw sacrifice and love of country on that trip. She saw what no school could ever teach her.
I could write about many of our adventures, but I think you get the point. Everyone has a story. When you have writerÕs block, sit back and remember your adventures. Remember the people who crossed your path, remember that moment which stirred your heart. Remember it all, and then write it. When I write, it it reminds me to share a memory with family and friends. I remember the sorrows and the joys. I remember the hopes and dreams. I remember it all. If nothing I write is ever published in a book or magazine Š my family and friends know where I keep my stories. As I cross the threshold of eternity, IÕll look back and watch them remember.
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