Same As It Ever Was

I'm rereading Do Me, Do My Roots to format it for Kindle to prepare for the Thanksgivukkah Miracle when I'll be releasing Do Me, Do My Roots; Dancing Naked under the Moon (formerly Balancing in High Heels); and Un-Bridaled. I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

If anyone asks me what my favorite book that I've written is, I always say Do Me (The book, not as a command. Get your minds out of the gutter, people!). Writing that book was such an important step in my own personal healing process that it would always be dear to me even if it hadn't gotten me my first contract with a NY publishing house or been nominated for a Rita (two, actually) or been a National Readers Choice Award finalist. Over the years, so many people have told me how much they loved it. It's hard not to have a soft spot in my heart, given all that.

Rereading it has been unexpectedly difficult. I was unprepared to be slammed back into exactly how I felt at that period in my life. I had forgotten how hard it was. I'd forgotten about the time when I'd accepted that I would wake every morning with a hard little stone in my heart. I'd forgotten how real and how present my husband was still in my life then. In fact, before I started rereading, I would have told you that I really didn't feel all that much different now.

Boy, would I have been wrong. I have come a long long way. My husband was a terrific guy. We still talk about him and, to be honest, my oldest son looks so much like him that it's almost creepy. He's still present in our lives, but it's not as immediate as it was then. I'll always miss him. I'll always love him and grieve for him, but that little stone in my heart? It's like a pebble now.

I'm incredibly lucky. I know that. As sad as rereading Do Me is making me, it's also reminding me of how much I have to be grateful for.