By: Marlene Oxender
Montpelier, Ohio
Writing prompts. I’ll never run out of them. So much to write; so little time.
I became a writer somewhat by accident. After my mother passed away, I wrote a few words about her. Then came stories about the things I was finding in her estate. My words ended up on social media. Then in a blog. Then a newspaper column. Then a few books.
The good thing about writing a newspaper column is that a deadline comes with it. But the bad thing about writing a newspaper column is that a deadline comes with it. At times, I’ve thought it might be best to schedule a sabbatical for myself. I’d put new writing on hold, focus on publishing my books, and then return to the column.
But then something comes along and renews my energy. When a recipe for Get Well Custard appeared in my newsfeed, it reminded me of an essay I’d written a few years ago about how we care for one another. I had forgotten what I’d written, so I read it again. My own writing is often new to me.
Most of us would agree that creative writing is a learned skill. It takes time. It takes editing. Then more time and more editing. It’s work, but it’s fun work.
In 2023, I published a book about my brother Stevie who had Down syndrome. I knew the book would sell well. After all, Stevie had done the marketing by just being himself all his life. We scheduled a few book signings, and his friends came to see him and have him sign the front cover of the book.
A young friend recently asked if I ever receive feedback from readers regarding my newspaper column or books. I didn’t mean to sound boastful when I told her yes – I receive cards and letters from people I don’t even know. I then laughed as I told her my answer sounded like a Glen Campbell song: “getting cards and letters from people I don’t even know.” Then I had to tell her who Glen Campbell was.
A few weeks back, after my Newspaper Clippings story was published, I began receiving comments through texts and emails – 14 messages. All good.
I suspect part of the reason I receive encouraging feedback is that I tend to keep my words uplifting and steer clear of anything that may cause division. I like to think I write about God without using the word God, mostly because God is bigger than any one word.
There are those who believe humanity is more awake than ever to the happenings of the world. We’re asking questions and having new conversations. Things once considered impolite or even impossible to discuss are being discussed.
I would have connected some dots years ago, but I didn’t know there were dots to connect. Being open to new possibilities helps us look beyond beliefs and assumptions that may separate us. We just need to keep in mind that we never know what we may not know.
Whoever said that all the world’s a stage had it figured out. We’re discovering how much truth that sentence holds, and many of us have decided it’s okay to stop watching the show and begin rewriting the script.
Life on earth means we arrive with nothing in our hands. We spend our days collecting things before departing with nothing in our hands.
But look at that beautiful soul of ours, meant all along to be the collector of things. Collections rich in memories. Collections full of wisdom. Collections of those little things we refer to as acts of kindness.
We can spend every moment extending love. Even while we sleep, we’re renewing our energy and restoring a little inner peace. Those naps? A gift to ourselves.
My brother Stevie often led our mealtime prayers. We always listened carefully because he could be hard to understand. After he finished praying, there were smiles as we pointed out how many times we heard him bless the food and mention his family.
His prayers always included the words “more love.” Looking back, I realize how much Stevie understood about love. When he said those two words, it was his way of speaking love into his world.
And now, when I think of him and miss him, I hear him tell me to put my wings on and buckle up. We’re walking each other home, and we’ve got work to do.
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Marlene Oxender is a writer, speaker, and author. She writes about growing up in the small town of Edgerton, her ten siblings, the memorabilia in her parents’ estate, and her late younger brother, Stevie Kimpel, who was born with Down syndrome. Her three published books, Picket Fences, Stevie, and “Grandma, You Already Am Old!” are available on Amazon. Marlene can be reached at mpoxender@gmail.com
