I published a Memoir, Transplanted 110 degrees from the shade to 10 degrees below zero in the sun, in March 2019.
Around the same time, Corona virus hit us. The pandemic that followed put sudden brakes on my publishing, marketing, selling of that book as well as my previous ones.
The lack of momentum affected my writing skills. Other than messages to family and friends I penned very few words (or rather typed very few words).
The saving grace in the last few years has been the baby boy who Nimmi brought home. Helping to raise the infant, Keshav, kept me physically and mentally active. My writing did not feel was a priority anymore. He is now three years old. I did make progress in my cooking. My older grandson Travis and I cook great meals together. He learned to make chicken curry and chicken biriyani, and many vegetarian dishes. Interestingly I have ventured to make Greek potatoes with him and we make pancakes from scratch, not from a store-bought mix.
Yet, my writing career has not progressed.
Last week I happened to go on Goodreads page and found my books posted on the site by my good friend April. There were two great reviews on the books. It warmed my heart, inspired my mind, and encouraged my brain to go forward with my next memoir. My working title for my book is “Thriving.”
I did thrive in this soil and grown to be strong like an oak tree, yet flexible like a mature bamboo tree and spreading the uplifting perfume of life like a Southern Magnolia. When I speak thus, I think I should be a poet. Thus inspired, I dared to go out and participate in an award ceremony when The Chicago Malayalee Association honored women doctors in our community in connection with Women’s day 2022. My youngest daughter Nimmi, a Family Medicine physician at Cook County Health Systems in Chicago, and myself as a retired Pathologist and Director of Laboratories at a suburban hospital were both honored. The Malayalees come from Kerala, the South Indian State where Malayalam is the main language.
This was a celebration that has now pushed me to seat myself in front of my computer and ‘pen’ the story of what happened to Raj and me after 1970.
I promise to entertain you, please you, make you shed a few tears, and maybe even surprise you with what I will share of my life. Looking forward to facing a few surprises myself, as I recount my story.