Indigo through and through, I am a child of the 60s and 70s who is a 50-something transplant from midtown Manhattan to Florida’s Emerald Coast. The perceptive, self-confident, creative and driven parts to my Indigo-go were sidelined on me in September 2017 when I lost my husband to an aggressive, fast-moving brain tumor. These days, I’m having to transport myself from the wonderful, loving and soulful space that was coupledom, where “us” reigned, to a solitary reinvention. It is proving to be an enormous but not insurmountable challenge.
Five grown children, two with spouses, and a new baby in our blended family are what move me toward renewal and self-discovery. I adore our children and love being relevant in their lives while, at the same time, I uncover or re-examine those non-familial things that are meaningful and heartfelt to me. Among these is freelance writing.
My friends are magical. Not only do they prop me up when grief sneaks in and overwhelms, they are intelligent, joyful, creative, imperfect, fun souls who inspire me. Would that everyone had a posse like mine. Family, friends, home life, great food and wine too are foundational to righting my ship ‘cause “I’m gonna make some noise in this world.”