“Meet me at the door naked.”

I’m not the first person to be told I’m dying, or to get my affairs in order, or at most I have six months to live. But there’s something about my story that is resonating with readers. And one person tells another, and another, and buys a book for a friend or a family member. And that’s how it starts.

Birthing this book has been super emotional. How do I write a story that isn’t too personal or what should be kept private? What’s the difference between telling the truth, and telling my truth? How can I be true to myself and the reader without divulging potentially dangerous confidences?

So I waited to write this story. But I realized the time might never be right. I mean, if I waited to be sure that my healing “took” then I’d have to wait until…I never died? I know that’s just too weird. How do you measure a successful healing? When do you determine a safe time to say: I’ve been healed long enough to make the claim that I’m healed and therefore I can/will/should write my story now?

I started this blog, or rambling journal entry, because I think I know why so many can relate to my story. I’m so open, so raw. You can ask me anything and I will answer. I put it all out there, and suggest that you pick out the parts that you think will help you on your journey,  and throw away the rest.

Most of all I remind you that it’s all about LOVE. I have the power to choose. I choose LOVE.

It makes my heart sing to know that you can relate and that I have helped you or someone you love, in some small way.

What I really want to say is thank you.