Those of you who know me, or who have read my book, know that I came home one day from work, eager to tell my dear Sarah all about my day. But on opening the door, I did not hear her usual cheerful greeting. I went inside, and found my love sitting in her wheelchair, at the door to the bathroom. She told me she'd been waiting there for me for a while, got up, took a few steps toward me, and collapsed.

The loss of the love of my life not long after almost did me in. But writing, and my dear Sarah, wound up bringing me back to life. I hope you, too, find inspiration in the power of writing to heal. And even, in time, recover your own zest for the adventures life brings.