Remembering Why I get to Write

In my existence, I've got many roles - Momma to my four Munsters, half of a 'You-and-I-Against-the-World' duo, feeder of four four-legged, furry souls, friend to some certifiable nut cases, SLP to some pretty awesome kids and families and most recently writer of stories. There are days when I love being all that and days when I hate being most of that and most days are frighteningly dynamic in that balance, moment to moment mood swings even!

But I'm safe.

I have a cushy job (well, two cushy jobs) that won't make me rich but help me feed my kids. I work in warm, clean, safe buildings with comforts such as ergonomical chairs (I'm told 'ergonomical' is not a word, but I'm not sure how to use ergonomically), and M&Ms and diet Coke. My kids are healthy, stimulated by education, music and sporting opportunities. They're safe and free to imagine whatever existence they want to find in the future, be it an NHL player or a horse riding coach (this week, anyway). My husband, parents, brother, sisters-in-law, friends live close or far, a phone call or Twit away, I know where they all are. Again, safe.

Here's why:

June 6, 1944

And in case you think that photo is dated and irrelevant: 

 June 5, 2014

So, from my cushy, ergonomical chair (see? I made it a word), it's important to be grateful to people who pick less cushy, less safe jobs so I can be free to sit here and write.

N