The turn of the year, traditionally a time for review and resolve, so much has changed since I wrote The Fledgling. I didn’t know then it would be the last thing I would write for nearly three years for I would have neither the time nor the energy. All I could do was put one foot in front of the other and pray that I would be able to keep going as I experienced the depths of sorrow, grief and loneliness. I lived with the hope that the old saying ‘the darkest hour of the night is just before the dawn’ would prove to be true, but as days became months and months turned into years the darkness became darker and I came close to despair.
During the past year I have discovered you are never too old to laugh, love and start all over again. Creative energy has been regained and with it has come the restoration of the belief that there is nothing so bad that it cannot be turned over for good.
