It's 2020 and in July... my father died. Consumed with grief, I decided to surrender to the Universe. Slowly- gently- people started to offer me their happy memories of my dad. Most said they loved his smile and his laugh. Many talked about the amazing stories he had told, about good deeds he had done, great work he had accomplished. Over the days and then weeks, the stories piled up and really helped to support that my father was truly one of the good guys!
What a powerful legacy! And that got me thinking of my own footprint in the world.
Were I to die tomorrow, certain arrangements would need to be made, of course! Coffin, burial clothing, grave. Then there's the obituary. I wrote my father's obituary, and by comparison, that seemed easy! What would my family have to write about me? She was creative. She liked the sport of curling. She had dramatic cats. She was a wife and mother. Well, okay. But I certainly hope I have contributed more than that. Lol
So I started thinking... my death would leave a number of other questions like, what to do with the hundreds, maybe thousands, of poems and stories lingering in the purgatory of my hard drive. What then? Would anyone know what to do with these? Would my grief-stricken family have the where-with-all to publish them or... even to open my laptop?
That was what finally helped me to see that I DO want my work out there. I believe there is value in my world view expressed through my use of words, therefore, I have a moral obligation to take the step - the leap. Wouldn't you know it but the very next day, I received a call from Balboa Press following up on my inquiry some time before. IT WAS A SIGN! Immediately I put a down payment and started to push creative energy into "finding" my work and organizing it; into researching the path for promoting it and making a new webpage; into opening myself to a team of people-family and friends-who care about me and will help to lift me up. 
This first book is a collection of poetry that seeks to tell a small part of the story of who I am. It's not the whole story, but as my work begins to unfold, I feel confident that you will know me better, and if The Fates allow, the world might be a better place. At the very least, there will be no question as to what I would like to happen to my work. I get to have a say in that.
Just yesterday, my cousin shared with me a very nice letter written to my dad's hometown newspaper in Wisconsin. The writer told of his group of grade school friends, dad included, and how sad he was to learn that he was the last one standing. This was followed by a story of dad's daring - a reckless incident from which he emerged unscathed and the forever hero of all who had marveled at the feat.
I'd never heard this story, which is surprising because it's just the sort that dad loved to tell. I wish he would have written down all of the tales and family histories, or recorded them in some way. Luckily, the people who knew and loved him are moved to keep a beautiful part of him alive by sharing.