Back in April, which feels like eons ago, I chatted with Charlene Jones about my book, From the Lake House: A Mother’s Odyssey of Loss and Love. Charlene hosts the website Soul Science, and my publicist connected me to her. And no, I never thought the phrase, ‘my publicist’ would be in my lexicon.
Charlene and I met for the first time via FaceTime about five minutes before the interview was due to begin. This was several weeks into Covid lockdown. Because one of my cats is super-talkative when he hears me talk, I locked myself in my bedroom during the interview. A double lockdown situation!
Naturally, my computer would not connect to FaceTime, so I used my phone for the interview instead. There I was, sitting in the corner of my bedroom, trying to hold my phone steady so that Charlene could see my face while we talked. My cat scratched outside my door the entire time. Luckily, Charlene was non-plussed and we had a lovely conversation.
If you’d like to hear about how my maniacal journal writing led to From the Lake House, or about what I learned while rebuilding my life after a series of losses, please do have a listen. The interview is about 20 minutes long.
I am struck by the wisdom of Kristen Rademacher, a writer whose sensitivity, intuition, and wisdom enabled her to glean the goodness that slowly manifest after the loss of her baby girl. During these pandemic days of self isolation, when each day repeats itself with little change, I now look forward to July and reading this remarkable book. Thank you, Kristen.
I listened so carefully to your beautiful sharing about you and who you have become. I look forward to reading your book in July and learning more about your inspiring thoughts. Thank you.
Thank you Kristen for sharing your story. You have chosen to live a life focused on gifts, rather than pain; seeing difficulties as opportunities for personal transformation; and to be OK with what is. Each of these concepts is powerful and difficult to imagine.
Yet your gentle wisdom teaches how (with steadfast determination) it is possible, in the midst of great personal loss, to learn and grow.