When Little Girls Grow Up

I've spent the past month getting ready for the RWA National Conference.... wait.... stop... Nope. Wish I could say I have been diligently planning for this very important trip. After all, I've got an editor and an agent to pitch, workshops to attend, people to meet, and celebrating to anticipate.

However, I've been distracted by a very important thing: my teenager! She's graduating in a year. This means touring colleges, narrowing down pros and cons of attending the colleges she's most interested in, and discussing various majors/minors of study whilst realizing that old dreams must be set aside to make room for new dreams and a new journey.

My daughter is at the cusp of her adult life. She's getting ready to explore her future, her world, her life as a citizen of the world. We've had her with us for almost 17 years (18 if you count the 9 month pregnancy) and now a very important part of my world is changing, morphing into a new direction. And right now, as we go through this transition, I want to be available to my daughter. I also want to be with my daughter. I know this next year will fly all too fast. After all, the past 16 have been a mere blink in my eye.

Here's a brief overview:

*from infertile to carrying a precious child
*her sweet, bubbly personality shining through from day one
*her first steps in a onesie after tearing through a pile of newspapers
*my best friend from Holland and I folding clothes in the kitchen while dreaming about who our daughters will be in 15 years. Those years have flown.
*singing Disney tunes, playing with dolls, stuffed animals, puppet shows, dancing, singing, laughing
*bumps, scary hospital visits, bones needing mending, emotions bursting
*school, Kindergarten, friends, world expanding, traveling, seeing much, doing more
*tall, gorgeous, self-driven, long legged and somewhat klutzy despite her years of dance teenager
*smart, funny, giving, empathetic, gifted, goofy, lovable human being

Why? Why do we have to raise our children to let them leave us? I just want to enjoy her. So yes, I haven't been a 100% focused on my "desperately seeking publication" goals. I admit it freely. I've written. I've written a lot. For it is in writing that I find solace, an escape from the reality I must accept as a mom.

And I've been shopping. Bought lots of clothes. With my teen at my side helping me squeeze into dresses for the gala events. I've been building more memories, making more time for laughter with my girl amidst preparing for my travels. Sure, I've stolen moments to work out my schedule for the conference, my pitches are "done" enough, and I'm excited about meeting all my friends in NYC. The conference will be great.

But underlying all my little plans for my world, there is a band pulling around my heart and squeezing ever so tight as I anticipate the very real and necessary goodbye I will face in a year. Sending my daughter into the world will be the greatest, most difficult thing I have ever done.

However, the pain of letting her go is lessened by the joy of seeing her soar. And in learning how to send my very real baby into the world, I have gained the added lesson of having the strength to send my fictional babies out into the world, too.

And I hope that my example of perseverance and diligence will be the flame that my daughter carries into her adult life.

Distractions that Take Precedence

I've been rather overwhelmed lately with a lot of external life events as well as writing demands. As some of you might already know, my beloved cat, the Dowager Feline Clancy, was diagnosed with renal failure 2 weeks ago. I've been quite heartbroken about her and have cried more tears than I've ever cried my entire life. We've been told that at 18 DFC is a very long-lived cat who has given us at least 6 bonus years. And they have been filled with great joy and fun. But having to make the decision about how to proceed with her and how long to wait until she is ready to say goodbye to us has been very difficult. As you can imagine, I'm very tired and drained because I want to honor her in the way she deserves. So most of my free time has been taken up in hunting down cat food she'll even nibble on, holding her when she'll let me, and talking to the vet about her future.

But work and writing still had to happen. First on my agenda, plowing through my revisions for the fourth MS and redoing my pitch for the Heart of Dixie Library Event, SHARE THE LOVE, where an agent was kind enough to hear it and request my first 50 pages. This was fabulous news, but as you all know, this also meant fine tuning my document to the nth degree. I spent the majority of last week getting the document ready, and I feel it is good to go. 

As I worked on the material, DFC would come visit me in my office or on my lap in Darling Husband's favorite reclining chair. He graciously gave his chair to us knowing how much more comfortable DFC is when we are sitting there. So now the partial is done, my last one I think with the Dowager Feline Clancy. I shall miss having her by my side and on my lap watching my fingers fly over the keyboard. But I will always treasure these small moments we still have left together.

As you know, the Dowager Feline Clancy has some pearls of wisdom for writers. I shared them with you over the course of this blog. And now she is teaching me another lesson, and I hope through this blog, a lesson to you as well. For in choosing to allow her to have small moments of happiness rather than forcing her to accept invasive treatments and swallow crushed pills, I have realized that there has to come a time in all things where we let go. This is true of loved ones, our beloved pets, and our work. Whether we say goodbye to our children as they head off to college, or goodbye to our family members as they leave this life journey to enter into another, or to our sweet pets as they approach the time where they wish to play in heaven with their friends--we must also learn to say goodbye to our works. 

We must be willing to write The End. This MS is finished, this partial is finished to the best of our ability and we must let it go out into the world. We must trust that in letting go of it, something beautiful can happen.