Here we are in the lull between Christmas and the New Year.
Or Hanukkah and the New Year.
Or the Winter Solstice…
At any rate, as I assured my husband today, the days are growing longer and the nights shorter. Not that he can tell in a nursing home room with the blinds shut because people can see into his room from across the courtyard.
There is precious little privacy here and we take what we can get.
We are old school and don’t let our feelings show. Visitors are assured that all is well. You would think we will pack up all the accumulated gifts and cards and walk out of here tomorrow.
I’m hoping it will happen, maybe not tomorrow or the next week, but soon. He has taken some small, tentative steps between parallel bars, exhausted with the effort. If I could will him my strength, I would happily give it.
He wants to walk unaided so much. Every minute of every day is dedicated to exercising his muscles, building up his endurance.
I think about the writers who are making resolutions right now. This year, I will submit to an agent. This year I will publish my book.
How much do they want it?
It takes dedication and will. Not just wishing and hoping.
It takes work. Lots of work.
Sometimes there are failures and setbacks. I want to tell them this is not the end. Submit again. Search the Internet for publishers taking on new authors. Believe in yourself and your book.
If you want it badly enough, you will find the way.
We will find the way.