The Final Day
Here it is, day one hundred. I've sorted through some of the sketches and pieces I have written. I like some of them. I think there might even be a few essays that have enough substance to be expanded on, finessed, molded into a more significant piece of writing. That was the intent, so this makes me happy.
Some days were tough, it shouldn't be so hard to find a few minutes to work on a creative project, but it is, and those are the sketches and bits of writing that make me want to cringe a little. On the hard days, I pulled out an envelope I have been carrying around with me for the one hundred days that has encouraging notes in it that people have sent to me throughout the project. I have reread them all so many times. Those notes and the bouquets of lilies that filled our house saved me from walking away when I felt like I was hitting a wall with the project more than once.
The common theme I found in the pieces that I like are about love and loving yourself and loving what you do. My sweet Lily, be relentless about finding that love and about finding who you want to share it with. Never take your good health, above-average intelligence, and natural beauty for granted. These things and the unconditional support from your family and friends are the greatest treasures of your life and hold the keys to open doors to possibilities you could never imagine.
My goodness, I love you so much my Little Bug.