If nothing else, writing my memoir has become a wonderful vehicle to reconnect. I called my dearest college friend last night. We haven't spoken in over a year and I had a number of pressing questions to discuss. Although, perhaps the minutia I've been stuck in is really a bit of writer's block.
Our conversation was immeasurably helpful (two menopausal minds are better than one!) And there are few people who can make me laugh as hard. I mean flat out, stomach muscle spasms of laughter; milk shooting from your nose, you can hardly catch your breath kind of hysterics.
And hearing her voice was delightfully heartwarming. She didn't flinch when I told her I was working on a book. I flinch every time I hear the words tumble from my lips. One must possess a certain amount of hubris and I shrink every time I say, "I'm writing a book," incredulous at myself.
But, even if my literary venture is only that, renewing relationships with the people I love is worth each typed word on a page and for that I am very grateful.
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