“So have you written any more books?”
he asked over dinner out.
Crab shells, empty salad plates,
and a lone bisquit sat on the table
between the four of us.
“No,” I answered, picking up another crab leg.
“No more books right now.
Really, I don’t have time.
4H is done and now football has started.
Dual-credit classes and volleyball
start next month.
We have a college apps,
and a senior year to navigate.
As long as the kids are home,
It’s kind of strange.
I have known this one who asked about my writing
longer than I have known just about anyone around here.
He was my brother’s best-friend first,
and then years later became Chad’s closest friend.
Tom has been around for.ever.
Way long enough for me to be real.
The conversation changed
and my thoughts shifted
and later there was so much more
I wished I had said.
I gave Tom, and his wife, Tracie,
the easy answer…
I’m just too busy,
I don’t have time to write.
I should have been honest.
The real reason there isn’t another book?
It’s not that I don’t have time,
rather, it’s not time to write.
As much as I want it to be time…
as much as I spend some days writing bits and pieces,
and as much as I want to write and sell millions of books,
to help support children around the world
and to help pay the bills of the ones that live with me…
deep within I know that it’s not time.
There will come a day when I have time,
when my three are off chasing their dreams
that I can chase mine.
Right now, though?
It’s time to be here.
Fully, 100% here.
For such a time as this,
it’s time to be their mom.