Saving Andrew

Chapter 14

Chapter 14
The final chapter

                      

                                                                    After quitting my job and embracing my role as a full-time pregnant mom, I felt a stirring inside me to reignite my lifelong dream of becoming a writer. Amidst the whirlwind of events in my life, I had momentarily forgotten what truly sparked my passion. Determined to reclaim my dreams, I dusted off a writing I had started during my time in Puerto Rico but had since abandoned it on my computer due to my father's condition. It was time to breathe life back into my dormant project. It was time to break through!

I heard of an editor in the city, and even though the novel was still unfinished, I decided to take a chance and approach her with the first three chapters of my novel. The meeting with her was long and arduous, and I anxiously awaited her verdict as she peered at me through her square glasses. In the end, she dismissed me with a disheartening gesture, throwing my manuscript onto her desk. I thanked her for her time taking the manuscript with shaky hands. Disappointment weighed heavy upon me as I made my way home. My hopes had been pinned on that manuscript, but I was not about to surrender so easily.

Refusing to let rejection deter me, I delved into the depths of the internet, leaving no stone unturned in my quest for new opportunities. I compiled a list of three other editors, determined to find someone who would appreciate my work. The first two closed their doors on me without giving my ideas a chance, but the third editor offered valuable advice and urged me to return when I felt ready.

"Write from your heart, Maya," he said shaking the manuscript. "These are good for a beginner, but I can see in your writing you've been doing this for a long time," he continued leaning back in his chair. "What is it you want to tell? Who do you want to touch?" He asked and I knew immediately what I wanted to write about. "I'll give you three months from now. Bring me something real. I know you can do it," he said and I smiled thanking him for the opportunity.

And so, for the next weeks, I immersed myself in writing this story. I made countless changes, agonizing over details I seemed to forget, looking into my notebooks and diaries to not forget anything. It was an exhausting process, and at times, I considered abandoning my aspirations to focus solely on my family.

I found myself in a relentless cycle of sleepless nights, juggling the demands of writing and caring for my precious babies. Exhaustion consumed me, draining my creative well and leaving me feeling devoid of inspiration. I wandered through the city, seeking solace and a spark of creativity in the bustling energy of my kids' laughter, the serenity of museums, and the tranquility of parks and churches. But alas, my mind remained a barren wasteland, devoid of any semblance of a story.

Despite my desire to continue, I felt a profound sense of discouragement. Doubt gnawed at my spirit, threatening to extinguish my writing ambitions. However, just as I had once been the unwavering support for Andrew in his journey to walk again, he now became my rock, my unwavering pillar of support, urging me to persevere pushing me beyond my limits. Sometimes we argued, and sometimes we cried together, but he never left my side, and he never gave up on me.

And then, as a sublime epiphany, the gift of inspiration came to me once more. Ideas surged forth from within me, flowing like a magnificent waterfall, cascading with unrelenting fervor. The words poured out of me like the rushing waters of a rapid, unstoppable, and urgent. It was a sensation I had never experienced before, both thrilling and slightly terrifying, yet I couldn't bring myself to halt this creative deluge.

"It's late, my love. You should come to bed," my husband's gentle voice interrupted my fervent writing, his hand tenderly resting on my weary shoulder.

"Just a little longer, I'll finish this chapter and go to sleep, I promise..." I said excited by what I was writing.