WINSPRIFALL

SPRING IS IN THE AIR…. WAIT, I MEAN WINTER WONDERLAND, NO, SPR….. WINT…. OH, NEVERMIND!

INTRODUCING WINSPRIFALL

Oh, spring, why hast thou forsaken me?

It’s April 28^th, but by all accounts near and far, it’s the middle of January, February at best. Here in the Pacific Northwest, we’re used to an excess of liquid sunshine. Really. It’s why our state is so beautiful. Snow…. We see a little. Ski season’s usually dwindles down to nearly non-existent in March, yet the Mountains are still getting blasted. Here on the valley floor we have rain, hail, sun, repeat.

Not only are my flowers confused, but apparently, my heating bill is too. I have the fireplace blazing as I write this! I am grateful for the days the sun does grace us with it’s warming presence. I thrive on good old-fashioned vitamin D. Everything goes better with that big yellow-orange thing in the sky.

My second problem with the conflicting and ever changing weather is this: I have my fall wardrobe, my winter duds, the springy outfits and the summer-wear. Now, due to the sunny-one-minute-rainy-the-next-and-oh-my-gosh-is-that-a-flurry-of-golf-balls-falling-from-the-sky weather system I must keep everything handy rather than having my seasonal clothes nicely tucked away. It’s a really good thing I have four closets at my disposal now instead of two.

All joking and whining aside, I realize the mild seasonal fluctuations in my neck of the woods is really a blessing. I see the devastation caused by hurricanes, tornadoes, flooding and non-stop snow storms that are happening all over the US. My heart aches for those effected by these horrible conditions. Many of my writing friends live in these areas that are hit the hardest and I am always fearful they might be caught in the worst of it.

It has been one crazy year all over. Even though I whine like many Oregonians, about the rain and the cold, and I wait anxiously for summer sun every day, I am so glad to live in an area where that’s all there is to complain about.

In closing, God Bless all of you struck by unruly and indiscriminately weather systems.

Tomorrow and the next day and the next (that’s all I can commit to at this time), every time I think about complaining when the rain comes down in torrents, I will stop and say a prayer for those less fortunate in the weather sense than I. I will count my blessings. I will accept this new season called winsprifall without further ado.

Till next time,

Lori

A Tribute

Seems Like Yesterday….

Eight years may feel like a long time in the passing of time. In fact, when you break it down, it seems to be an impossible amount of hours (70,080); days (2,920) and weeks (416). However in my memory’s eye it’s more like yesterday.

Eight years ago today, one of the most important men in my life went to be with his Father in heaven. I can remember every detail of that point in time when my mom gently shook my shoulder in the wee early morning hours and quietly informed me that my dad had passed on.

Some might think it’s morbid or pathetic to commemorate each year in memory of dear old dad. “Time to move on,” they might say. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pensive and a little sad each year as I honor my dad’s death, but really, the day is about rejoicing- reminiscing on the good times and how after so many angst filled years, my father and I had a relationship I will forever cherish. The sadness comes when I think of how much I miss him, how I wish he had gotten to see his granddaughter grow up, how proud he would be that his baby girl is an author (I can almost hear him bragging now, he was always my biggest fan!).

I attended a funeral a couple of weeks back and the man’s granddaughter had stated ‘grandpa didn’t know a stranger,’ and I had to smile because the same thing was said about my dad. How true that was. It strikes me sometimes how many people’s lives my dad touched.

In my book, For the Helpless, my main character’s father was cold, demanding, critical and although strong and successful, was unhappy and unfulfilled. He never gave his daughter the recognition, encouragement and love she needed to feel confident in her own self. She could never be ‘good enough’, but she kept trying. There are parts of that fictional father that resemble an old version of my dad. Fortunately, a transformation took place and the man I knew most of my life was the polar opposite.

There hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last 70,080 plus, that I don’t think of something I learned from my dad, remember a funny joke, or thought about his laugh and his big smile. It’s quite amazing really; when I also have memories of the many years we fiercely butted heads and couldn’t be in the same room without being nasty to one another. As a teen ager, I would never have guessed how our relationship would evolve into one of mutual admiration, respect and deep love.

Now, I have a teenager who is constantly at odds with her own father. I encourage her to not let this precious and short time with her dad slip away. I tell her he won’t always be there, and when he’s not, she’ll wish they’d spent their time more wisely. When my dad learned he was dying he made a conscious effort to make the most of his last days and really reached out to those he loved. I’ve learned so much from him in those last months: I love with my whole heart and hold those close to me tight. I don’t waste too much time on others that want to make their life and those around them miserable.

It seems like yesterday when I sat by my dad’s bed stroking his still warm hand, crying tears that were a mixture of sadness and rejoicing. Sadness because I will never have my dad next to me in the flesh to share the good times and work through the bad. Rejoicing because he will never feel pain again and is in a place better than I can ever imagine.

So today, I do remember and celebrate, not just the passing of a great man, but his life and how it still affects me every day. I hope I never ‘move on’. I cherish every memory, good and bad as they made my dad who he was, and in many ways, me who I am.

I love you, dad. I will see you someday.

Lori

A tale of two blogs

When I started this whole blog thing, I considered myself a reluctant blogger..... I mean really, who cares what I have to say? So, I've tried to make them somewhat related to my writing. I admit, I have enjoyed it so far, especially some of the comments that have been left encouraging me along the way. Now that I have barely mastered one blog, I now have another on my author web site at www.loriboggs.com if you haven't already, please check out that site. I've posted a couple of short stories there as well.

My web site marks the upcoming release of For the Helpless which should be available in a matter of weeks! It's the next step in a very exciting process that just keeps getting better and better. I never thought when I began writing this book that it would amount to anything. I half expected my preview readers to honestly say 'maybe writing's not for you.' Instead, I've become part of a fantastic literary family called TreasureLine Publishing. The support and energy of this fine group of writers makes everything so much better. If I were to do this all by myself, I don't know if I could do it.

So now, I have two blogs, hopefully I can manage a semi regular posting schedule. A subtle switch will be happening, however as this blog becomes a little more personal in nature and the web site blog takes on more of the author tone. Please continue to check them both out. I'll try to keep them interesting.

Till next time,
Lori