Many years ago, I began chronicling my thoughts within the pages of a notebook. I had suffered the greatest loss a parent could imagine, the sudden death of my 16-year-old son to bacterial meningitis.
On the outside, I looked brave, and strong, all together. Within the secret pages of my notebook was the true story; the story of the incredible struggle to wake up in the morning, to go on with life, to be alive for my living children.
Through time, my notebook became so much more.
It held the key to my survival, and ultimately my success. It helped me see the path to restore my broken life, not only by documenting my feelings, but inspiration from meditation, ideas from listening to others, and creative thoughts that rose above the darkest moments of sorrow.
I used it as an organizational tool to hold my life together. I had lists of things I needed to do, and friends I could call upon when I needed more than I could emotionally handle. I drafted a garden...