Helen's Inspiration

When my daughter, Kelsey, was born I started making annual trips down to Chicago to visit my Grandparents. They were pretty old back then, in their eighties, so I didn’t figure I’d be making all that many trips. Dylan came along five years later, and I wasn’t even sure if he’d remember his great-grandparents, but it was important to me that he be given the opportunity. So I’ve continued the tradition through the years in spite of financial difficulties, bad weather, conflicting family responsibilities, kids athletic commitments, whatever.

There were many times during the long drives down and back that I’ve wondered about the sense of it all. I don’t wonder any more.

Grandpa died four years ago, shortly after turning 97. My grandparents were still living in their own home at the time, a home my kids remember about as well as I do. They remember playing cards with him at the kitchen table, messing with the controls on his bed and chair. Laughing with him, eating meals with him. Listening to a TV turned up about as loud as the volume would go. They remember Grandma’s spot on the couch, how she would fuss over Grandpa, how she’d wave good-bye out the front window as we drove away.

This past weekend Dylan and I took our annual pilgrimage to visit my Grandma for the first time without Kelsey. It was sad, but she had commitments we couldn’t work around. Now we visit Grandma in her assisted living facility (she couldn't stay in her own home without Grandpa), but it’s amazing how little assistance she really needs. Although she’ll be turning 100 in November, you’d never know it. She refused to walk with a walker or even a cane until about a month ago. She still takes all her own medicine, and, with congestive heart failure and high blood pressure, the schedule gets pretty complicated. She still pays her own bills, washes and irons her own clothes, and makes her own bed even though it takes her half an hour.

She’s amazing. My grandpa was amazing. They inspire me in ways it’s difficult to put down on paper. They’re stubbornness and determination, are things I think of all the time in reference to my writing. But as a romance writer in particular, they set an example that’s hard to find these days. Get this, my grandparents were married for 76 years.

Can you imagine? Seventy … six … years. These days making a twenty-fifth anniversary is a milestone. They weren’t the snippy, badgering kind of old couple you see on TV, but they weren’t perfect people either. Trust me. I couldn’t have lived with either one of them for half that long. Even so, they were sweet together. They adored one another, respected each other, were considerate in every possible way. They LOVED each other.

So when I’ve finished writing my romances, I take time to think about my hero and heroine and wonder whether they could possibly live as happily ever after as Grandma and Grandpa. If yes, I’ve done my job. If not, it’s time for revisions! Grandpa and Grandma keep me in line.

Do you have someone (or something) that inspires you, either in your personal, professional, or writing life? How does it makes a difference?