I'm so glad you asked.
I was born the last child in my family on the last day of the year.
For years, my Christmas stocking read Omega because it was made by my aunt Bess before my parents named me. I was definitely going to be the last kid in a family with four boys, the youngest of whom was ten years my senior. Mom had me when she was almost 40 and I was the end of it.
Growing up, I hated my birthday. All my friends were out of town or busy with their parent’s plans for the holidays. But now I see how perfectly this day suits me.
New Year’s Eve is when we naturally look back, and yet it’s also when we look forward. I love history. I love the echo of all the lives and stories written before us. I always have. I also love encouraging people. Encouragement is always forward looking.
Tomorrow is my birthday and at 55, after 12 years of writing with a few years of delay thrown in, I’m finally AT LAST, poised to make a serious effort at turning a passion into a career.
I might be the last child, born on the last day, the last author anyone would expect to finish her work, but from my vantage point … I see a beautiful beginning.