187 Pennies

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The past three months have been pretty rough for me. On the surface, everything was cooking along fine, just the usual stresses. Underneath, I was clinging with my fingernails. I said Yes to way too much. I did a show, a contata, and the major revision on my novel, as well as shopping for Christmas. I spent too much, more than I have in years. I had a major fight with a friend, which has changed our relationship forever. And I got a dog, the first pet I’ve had since 1995.

The result was I shut down, mentally and emotionally, withdrawing not only from this blog but from friends and family, and had to do some catch up there after Christmas. My mother has been desperately ill the past week and last weekend, the cousin who was closer to her than a brother died.

I sound like a bad country song, don’t I?

But some where in that miasma of happenings, “$1.87″ kept coming back to my mind, circling back there as a reminder not of where I am now but where I’ve been.

Late in 2003, following a period when Rachel had been so sick I couldn’t work, my checking account got down to $1.87, with no money coming in for at least 3 weeks. That’s it. I had no back-up, no savings, no insurance. All the financial assets I had to my name was that 187 pennies. But I had food in the pantry, and we hunkered down and made it through, mostly from God’s help and good friends than my sense of perseverance.

When you’ve been in that position, a three-month cycle of depression can whack you upside the head, but it does not defeat you.

So I’m back, with some changes in mind. I signed up to walk a half-marathon in April, so I’m walking with the dog every day. More light, more sun, more movement. And I’m working intently on entering MURDER in contests and trying to finish the third book, in case Steeple Hill wants it.

And…if all goes according to plan…blogging more.

But we all know what they say about the best laid plans….

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