Lent 2005

When I look back to 2005 I'm reminded of how strange life can be.  It was one of those times when I couldn't tell if life was full of gifts or if was just cruel.  My second son was on the way that February right around Lent and so I was indeed thinking that life was a gift, but at the same time, I'd been so depressed because my first effort at writing a mystery novel had been rejected by all the big-name agents and publishing houses. 

All these news stories circulating the globe about priests and pedophiles and I hadn't spent a day inside a catholic church. Not once. The only thing I could think to do was to buy a copy of "Catholic For Dummies" and to call a catholic church that went by the same name of the hospital where I was born - St. Francis.

I'd agreed to sign up for classes in exchange for handing over my soul, but three months into classes I received word that my favorite Swedish aunt had passed of cancer so I'd informed Hell all bets were off.  There weren't too many family members I'd cry about in this life, but my Swedish aunt was worth every tear.  She died on Black Friday giving me time to travel overseas for the funeral because Sweden isn't in any hurry for squat.  For example, you wanna have a baby?  Then go to Sweden. It's like a game show.  For every baby you have, you get a year off from work. 

In all seriousness, my aunt was the best.  For a graduation gift, she gave me a book called the Open Book.  It was a blank book with the message that the story hadn't been written yet by the author.  She, too, was a writer and a damn good one breaking the message about women and the glass ceiling in the work place.

I can remember being at my cousin's house for Christmas after the funeral where my mom stated to everyone that I was writing a novel.  I wouldn't have called it a novel back then with ten unedited chapters after ten months of second-guessing the story, but suddenly I was the envy of the family because me and my aunt were connected once more.

On my last day in Sweden, my uncle sat me down and told me this amazing story about the family's relationship with the church and our relationship to St. Bridget - Patron Saint of  Sweden/Europe.  After listening about our family heritage, I was hooked, or at least I was rejuvenated to resume my story. I thought for sure I could return to the U.S. and complete The Privileged in the next few months.  But like so many times in eight years, I was wrong.