The Story Continues . . . Prologue

Again In a Heartbeat explored love's enormous risk in the face of chronic illness, the untimely loss of my husband, John, and moving on as a single woman and mother.

Morning at Wellington Square, a writer's journey continues the story of life in middle-age; where to go when you have lost your husband and your career.  Can you start over?  Can you find passion and renewal, and, if so, how? As I  put the finishing touches on my new book, I look forward to again sharing my story of life's lessons learned along the way.

My book will be available by late summer. Here is the Prologue to Morning at Wellington Square. 

I hope you enjoy!

Prologue

Sometimes I wake up at 3:30 am wondering what would happen if I died?  My body might not be found for days, like a character from Six Feet Under, that darkly comical HBO series about a family who owns a funeral parlor.

Having experienced tragedy in my own life, I grew fond of the show’s unblinking focus on life’s grotesque twists and turns.  Recently, I started putting my glasses and my cell phone on the night table next to my bed.

John has been gone for years, yet I hear his voice like a breeze whispering through high grasses along the beach.  He calls me his “beautiful, blond reporter.”

He comes to me in my dreams.  Don’t forget me, he says.

That’s impossible, I whisper.  You are the only person who ever understood me.   I sit up in bed, turn on the lamp, and stare at the photograph on my dresser. 

Forever young, he wears denim and dark shades.  His arm casually leans against a fence; the tan slopes of California countryside fill the background.

Chivalrous, great looking, an amazing husband, a fantastic father.  Passionate and loving, he thrilled me to the bone.  I’ve been to the top of the mountain.  Where do I go from here?

I switch off the lamp and settle back against the pillows, turning my back to the familiar clock where 4 a.m. glows orange red.  Tomorrow, as Scarlett said, is another day.

I had magic with John . . . a contagious kind of magic that suggests once two objects meet they will continue to affect each other even after the contact between them has been broken.   I need to believe in magic.

So what if the calendar and mirror conspire to say I’m older.  I’m not dead  . . . yet.  John came my way once.  Unexpected, a total surprise, his magic, our magic, changed everything in an instant.  I need to believe that everything can change . . . just like that.