I ask myself the same question about a couple of times a day now. Why write a book? When self doubt comes creeping in and I question the purpose of it. Will it change the world? Probably not. Will I become a NY Bestseller? Ummmm, I'm not that lucky. Will I become rich? Absolutely not but a girl can dream.
I'm not writing this book for fame or fortune. I'm not writing this book to become a cool cat or gain 1k followers on my Instagram account. I'm not writing this book to end world hunger though I wish I could. I'm not writing this book because I'm an excellent writer because, I know for a fact, that I am still an amateur.
I'm writing this book because earlier this year I couldn't even pick up a pen. My brain wanted to pick it up but it just couldn't. I remember so clearly when I discovered I couldn't write. "Leslie, we need you to sign this document to give us permission to perform these tests." I nodded my head afraid for anyone to listen to my gibberish and stutter. I tried to raise my right arm but it was shaking uncontrollably. The nurse noticed my frustration and immediately put the pen in my hand and laid it on the paper. I smiled at her. "You're welcome." She replied to me. But I couldn't get the pen to sign my name. A tear rolled down my cheek. The nurse was holding the paper down and trying not to stare at me. I dropped the pen, I couldn't hold it anymore. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. More tears came pouring out. I remember thinking 'I can't write. Oh my god. I can't write. This can't be happening!' "Just do your best Leslie. We just need to get you in for this CT scan immediately." "Bbbbuuuutttt. IIIIII cannnntttt." I replied to her and my eyes spoke a million words to her. Agony, pain and sadness were written all over them. She put the pen back in my hand and I just made the smallest mark on the paper.
When the test was done. They wheeled me back to my room where my husband was waiting for me. I couldn't even look at him in the eye. "What's wrong Les?" I looked out at the window and told him "IIII cannnttt wwwwrrrrrriiiiitte." He didn't ask me how I found out or said the usual response during those days of ' don't worry everything will be fine.' He just hugged me and let me cry for a very long time. There were no words he could say that would make what I felt go away. When I finally stopped crying, he handed me a piece of paper. "Les, start with the basics. Do your ABCs." I looked at him like he had lost his mind but he was right and that's exactly what I did. I told him that when I learn to write again, I was going to write a book.
See, I experienced a temporary loss of something that is so basic to so many of us, the ability to write. With determination and practice, I was able to write again. My speech took a lot longer and that might be another post for another day. So there you have it, I'm writing this book because at one point I could barely move my right arm, because I said I was going to do it and I am.
There will always be mountains in our lives. Obstacles too hard to overcome but with faith, determination and willpower, no mountain will ever be too high. Not for me anyway. I was born a fighter and I will die a fighter.
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