Yesterday I had my weekly meal with my daughter. We’ve been eating meals together for 30 some years, the most recent few years every Sunday, sometimes breakfast, sometimes brunch, sometimes lunch, occasionally dinner, alternating houses and hosting duties but with only a quarter mile between the two homes, it’s rarely the only time we see each other over the course of a week.
Yesterday was my turn at my house and I prepared a combination of our favorites. Cinnamon roll French toast bacon sliders. They were yummy! (Actually, yummy with about 27 exclamation marks.) Of all the meals I make, and I do all of the big three, breakfasts are my favorite, and I try to make our Sunday breakfasts when I’m making a Sunday breakfast something different. I like breakfast and said someday I should write a cookbook with just breakfasts. My daughter’s answer, “Why not?”
Easy for her to say. She actually makes a living at writing. Creative writing. I mentioned that to her and reminded her that I made my fortune (hahahaha!) as a hospital pharmacist, not as one of America’s literary giants. But then she reminded me I wield a quill as deftly as a pestle. (See. Creative.) And that made me think how much this “scientist” has put down on paper, or pixelated the screen.
Last week I was re-reading most of the almost 200 ROAMcare Uplift blog posts as we decide which of them will work best in a compilation into book form. (If you’re interested, a couple of my favorites are Listening for Love, and Friend is Another Word for Love. Yes, there is a theme there.) Most of those posts are around 500 words and some of them have been recycled but we figure that’s abut 90,000 words written, and although a collaborative effort, I do the bulk of the writing.
Then there is this thing, the quote unquote personal blog, that I’ve been hammering at for 12 years, 8 months, and 4 days. Untold number of words, some intelligent. (One of my many favorites here is Good Things, Small Spaces, a real oldie and still goodie.)
I’ve written about a dozen articles for professional journals, a. short lived newspaper column on, yep, drug stuff (weekly for about 2 years), one novel currently getting more air miles back and forth to publishers than I’ll ever get on a real airline, one short story and a “self-help” book (I hate that descriptor) that I keep revising mostly because in all honestly, they aren’t that good, and one of what I hope will be my legacy.
That donation to society is trip through my life tentatively titled Long Shots and Miracles, based on a presentation I do that describes me battling 3 potentially life-ending conditions in the span of 20 years with the power of prayer (I let the doctors battle with medical know-how, I battled with prayer). To give you a flavor of that, this is usually how I close. ‘The doctors have their theories, I’ll stick with mine. But you tell me, what do you think. Am I just luckier than most or am I a living miracle, proof that prayers are answered. You have a 50/50 chance of getting it right. I’m sticking with the Miracle Worker. That seems to be the sure thing.’ Popular among church organizations and just breaking into “survivor” groups.
I also speak on other topics but before I do I write them out completely, as if they would be read. (I found it’s how I best edit myself.) Oh, and once I wrote a letter to the editor.
Is there a point to all this? No, not really. If you are reading this, you are a writer. If there must be one, I’d say the point is that everyone can be whatever they want to be, no matter when they decided to be it, nor what they started out to be. I think as humans, an area we lag the rest of nature is that of adaptability. We spend much too much time and energy doing things that don’t make us happy or add to our contentment (yes, they are different things), and we justify it too often with “that’s what I’ve always done,” or “oh I could never do that.” The only things you can never do are the things you won’t ever do. (Oh, that would make a dandy sampler!)
So there’s my point. If I can do it, anybody can. Even if I’m not all that good at it. You might be better at whatever you decide you want to be after all this time.
Or then again, I could just be pointless. And that’s okay too.

Learning all we can for as long as we can prepares us for whatever the day may bring. And keeps us happy and healthy! Read why we say “we’re learning, to be happy” in the latest Uplift.