Gratitude

I am profoundly grateful for receiving the Silver Nautilus Book Award for A Soul Lives On.

When my editor, Beth Wright, encouraged me to apply for a number of book awards, I was frankly surprised. I thought my book was good, but I wasn’t sure it was THAT good. Her encouragement to me to reach out to various recognitions was affirming and gratifying. The Nautilus Book Award was the only one I recognized, so I applied for that prestigious honor. Submitting my application shortly after my book launched last fall, felt like a long time ago. When the announcement of the winners came last month, I’d nearly forgotten about it.

In autumn 1998, shortly after Hannah’s birth, Nautilus Book Awards was born.

Here’s what I have learned about the Nautilus Award, from their website, https://nautilusbookawards.com:

(During the next several years), Nautilus grew steadily as a platform for both first-time and experienced authors and publishers to have their books recognized as seeds to help the world-shift that was necessary and indeed crucial to bring forth healing for life on Earth…To recognize and celebrate Better Books for a Better World, authors and publishers began taking more responsibility for their books as tangible and potent seeds of a potential world - a world that values significant steps in sustainable practices, that recognizes the integration of body, mind, & spirit, that celebrates streams of spiritual awakening from Eastern traditions, from Western traditions, and from Indigenous & other traditions; and that encourages positive social action for greater healing and justice in many aspects of our culture.

A Soul Lives On won in the category of Death & Dying/Grief & Loss. To read about the other recipients of the 2022 Nautilus Award, see: https://nautilusbookawards.com/nautilus-winners

Receiving this Nautilus award is certainly icing on the cake. Hopefully, the new recognition will help the book reach a larger audience. And with that, it may help someone else take those difficult steps in healing their grief.

I didn’t set out to write an award-winning book when I began this story. What started as a bunch of journal entries, became a depressing slog, as I was still under a dark cloud of grief. Putting the book away for years, I attempted to write a children’s book, showcasing Hannah’s astrological chart with my niece, Annie, and her illustrations. Those pages were fun and creative, but eventually they felt too heavy and sad for a kid’s book. With time and counsel and a lot of thought, the chapters of A Soul Lives On finally emerged. It wasn’t until Beth had me rewrite the whole book to tell a more personal, emotional story, that it took its current form. All I knew in my heart was that I wanted to share Hannah’s story, our story, and I hoped it would help someone else in deep grief from having lost their special person. Ultimately, the book felt like a part of my life’s work, and I couldn’t rest until it was finished.

As I write about in A Soul Lives On, connecting with other bereaved women became a lifesaver for me. One woman in particular, Molly, demonstrated to me that something creative and meaningful could be sparked from my grief. I’m over-joyed that my book creation became my spark. Molly had also survived for decades after the loss of her infant son. I was profoundly grateful that Molly and my other bereaved friends demonstrated that there could be life after the loss of a child.

Another friend of mine is turning struggle and loss into meaningful work. My friend, Greg Nance, an ultramarathon runner, is currently halfway across the country in his Run Across America. Greg has been open about his own struggles, following substance abuse brought on by depression and anxiety. Now with over ten years of sobriety, running has become Greg’s healing method, his mission, and his purpose. His current Run Across America isn’t just a personal challenge, but it’s coupled with his cause to raise funds and awareness for youth mental health via The Run Far Foundation; (https://www.runfarfoundation.com) Often running more than 50 miles a day, day after day, Greg is hobbling with full-body aches and pains after over 1,500 miles. But despite his agonies, he finds something every day to be grateful for: chirping birds, beautiful landscapes, inspiring and generous people, a bath at the end of the day… before he gets up the next morning and does it all over again.

Today, May 31st, is my son, Andrew’s birthday. He has known terrible loss, great trauma, and personal struggles. And yet, he is also a survivor. His purpose has yet to be revealed, but I’m so grateful that he’s gets up every day, faces his demons, and tries to carve a path forward. I am profoundly grateful for this sweet, smart, sensitive young man.

Andrew was certainly affected by Hannah’s death. Her passing was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. And gradually, reflecting on my loss turned into A Soul Lives On, for which I am so grateful.

Gratitude can help you overcome the greatest loss. The greatest fear. The greatest obstacle. The hardest day.