{"id":331,"date":"2013-11-04T16:33:39","date_gmt":"2013-11-04T16:33:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/?p=331"},"modified":"2014-01-22T11:08:57","modified_gmt":"2014-01-22T11:08:57","slug":"healing-from-loss-finding-myself-my-work","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/healing-from-loss-finding-myself-my-work\/","title":{"rendered":"Healing from Loss: Finding Myself, My Work"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"newhat\"<\/a>\u00a0\u201cMom, I locked my key in the car. Can you do me a favor?\u201d my son calls me on my cell phone.<\/p>\n

I am about to dive into a chocolate cake and two bottles of aged port with friends. We are twelve miles north of Ithaca. I will have to go home first to find his spare keys before I drive to the downtown restaurant where he is stuck.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be right there,\u201d I say. Then I drive the dark empty country roads and the wet city streets reflecting store lights, singing \u201cI\u2019m being followed by a Moon Shadow.\u201d That\u2019s how much I want to be needed, to be doing something, to have a goal and have work.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m addicted to working.<\/p>\n

But no one wants to hire a photo-shopper, another writer, an out-loud reader, or someone who will drop everything to rescue a bad situation. It\u2019s time to get creative. To remedy the lack of a job, get out of the house, and keep my self-esteem I have started to write a semimonthly column called Up and Out<\/a> for a small online newsletter, www.tinytowntimes.com<\/a>. If you enjoy my writing please check it out. Except for this first introduction, it will be an exploration of the overlooked and under-appreciated gems to be found in a tiny town like Ithaca, New York.<\/p>\n

So now I\u2019m wearing a new hat. Actually it\u2019s an old one that belonged to my daughter. But it fits. If it weren\u2019t for her and all her words I found after she died, I would never have discovered my own love for writing.<\/p>\n

Sometimes when you lose someone you find someone or something else. I\u2019m finding myself. And all the things I never imagined I could do.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

 “Mom, I locked my key in the car. Can you do me a favor?” my son calls me on my cell phone. I am about to dive into a chocolate cake and two bottles of aged port with friends. We are twelve miles north of Ithaca. I will have to go home first to find […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[25],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-331","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-25"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t