It’s Never too Late
When I came off the island in 1978, people told me I had to write a book about the experience. I did like to write – papers in college; essays on exams, letters to my family…but a book? ‘Write it now,’ my brother advised, ‘before too much time passes and you romanticize it all.’
How much time is too much time? I was newly married and, though I thought about it a lot, time slipped by. Then the babies came and time seemed non-existent. My toddlers kept me busy; my husband was baffling. I began to write, but not about the island, I wrote about them. Our local newspaper offered me a weekly column and for six years I wrote about my husband and sons – A Day in the Life – it was popular. Periodically, I would think about that island experience –If only I wasn’t writing a weekly column, then I’d be able to focus on it.
We sold our house, we moved. I thought, perhaps now is the time… But I began another column – Building Dreams, as that crazy husband of mine, who had just undergone back surgery – a spinal fusion – allowing for just the exact number of months to rest, began building our new house. That column went on for several years, the kids were growing older, into sports and other activities and I was working…who had time to write about an island experience that was now so very many years in the past?
An acquaintance walked across Canada, raising awareness for the unborn – she walked across Canada! When she came home she was asked to speak about her experience. I went to hear what she had to say. And I waited to talk to her afterward.
‘Have you thought of writing a book about your experience?’ I asked her, ‘because I’d love to help you write it.’ So I helped Therese write her book – Fire Under Foot – it took years, but we got it done. I now had a book in print! But it was not mine. Why couldn’t I write about my own experience?
The kids moved to Toronto for their studies and finally, I turned to my journal – now decades old. More than another decade would slip by; a shooting on that very island where I had once taught; a writing group to whip me into shape, and a pandemic to glue me to my chair. This is what it took to finally write my book, proving to me that it’s never too late.
And now you’re all caught up.
