A Little Time With Liz

                                                           

Friends, from time to time, I like to show off a fellow writer’s work, and such is the case with one of the women I blog with on WordWranglers.  Liz Flaherty is a U.S.A Today bestselling author, and all around prolific writer who has a wonderful new book making its debut.  So, without any further adieu, here is an excerpt from Liz’s new book, Window Over the Sink, and, as a special little treat, Liz was kind enough to also include one of her essays.   So, grab a blanket and a cup of something hot, curl up and enjoy. 

Janie

 

 

 

Window Over the Sink excerpt:

 

It’s been nearly ten years since we retired. I’m still in the office Duane and the boys created for me. The seven quilts I promised to make have been completed. A few books. He has new knees and new guitars. We’ve had grief and loss in these years, occasional discontent, times of being alone even when we were together. We’ve also had a blessed amount of fun. Of music and laughter and family. Of the other side of being alone that comes of knowing we never really are.

Much has changed in those nine years and change, and much has stayed the same. At first, it seemed as if this book was a vanity thing. Or a thing for the grandkids to look at and think Okay, Nana, what do you want me to do with this? But in the end, like most other things in life that are worthwhile, it is a labor of love. A gathering of thoughts and dreams and memories.

Thanks for joining me on the journey.

 

Buy links for Window Over the Sink

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08Q5T2Y5S/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i2

D2D:

https://books2read.com/u/bw7NM0 

 

 

ESSAY:

 

                                                  IT’S TODAY

Do you have days you look forward to...more than others, I mean?

My husband, the roommate, sits in wait from the day after Christmas until February first. Because then the longest, darkest month with the shortest, coldest days is over. Theoretically. According to his theory, that is. Because I know, of course, that Punxsutawney Phil is going to stick his head out the next day and haul it back inside rather than freeze to death in the darkness of his shadow. 

When I was a kid, I looked forward to Valentine’s Day because everybody in the class gave nearly everyone else a valentine. And we got candy. Then I looked forward to Easter because there was often a new dress in it for me, not to mention we wore new white shoes to church instead of the black patent ones that hadn’t survived the ravages of winter all that well. We had ham for Sunday dinner, the grandparents came to visit. And we got candy. 

There were other days of excitement. I loved the Fourth of July, complete with a parade and fireworks and unlimited hot dogs. And candy. The first day of school, complete with new clothes and new books (yes, even then I had a thing for books) was a biggie all the way from the first year to the last. Getting out of school for the summer, when hot days were so new and delicious. Thanksgiving and Christmas were my favorite can’t-waits. 

When the kids were little, especially for a few periods when I had two in diapers, I couldn’t wait until they were housebroken. Until they could talk. Until they went to school. Until the miserable years of junior high had passed. Until they graduated.

I wrote… oh, always. I wanted to write a column so much, couldn’t wait to see my byline wherever it appeared. I wanted to write a book, and couldn’t wait for the box of author copies, the first book-signing (I practiced my signature. Seriously.), and the first check. 

I’m not sure when it all changed. When I stopped saying, “Oh, I can’t wait...” about times, events, things. When my emotional February first became unimportant because all the days before it were so much fun and so full of life going on. It may have been when my firstborn reached six and a half feet and I wasn’t sure how it happened, or when the roommate and I were celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary when… hey, wait, aren’t we only 25? 

It may have been while standing in a funeral home at someone’s celebration of life regretting that there’d never been enough time together, enough laughing, enough comparing of life’s notes, and laughing some more. Never enough. 

No, I’m not sure when, but at some point, it all became about the journey. I still love holidays, but getting ready for them is more exciting than the actual days. I love my adult kids and grandkids, but I’m sorry if I wished away even one day of their growing up. I love having a new book, but the anticipation is more fun to me than Release Day, when my stomach hurts and I’m afraid no one will read it. 

I still love writing this column, no matter how many starts and stops it’s had over the years, but while I still look forward to that byline, I don’t spend time thinking about it. There are too many other things to think about. To do. To laugh at. I can wait.

 

Author, Liz Flaherty