I could not have
written the more than 70 novels that makeup my book list without
mining a lifetime of memories. Like Sis in The Oleander Sisters,
I’m the go-to girl in my family. When my two sisters and I went
through the last year of our mama’s life, every conversation I had
with my older sister started with her asking, “What are we going to
do?”
Just as Emily
always looks to Sis for a solution, so does Jo Ann always look to me.
A few months ago
when she received word that her husband, my dear brother-in-law, has
cancer, she asked the same question. “You don’t have to walk this
walk alone,” I told her. “I’m here.” Furthermore, I told her
we would do exactly as Mama would. Marie Westmoreland Hussey was the
most courageous woman I know; she would fight a cross-cut saw for
those she loved.
You will see my
feisty mama all over Sweet Mama and Beulah in The Oleander
Sisters. Her stamp is also on Miss Queen in The Sweetest
Hallelujah. (Both books were written as Elaine Hussey).
The most poignant
parts of this novel – the hospital scenes – were also the hardest
for me to write, not because I didn’t know how the sisters would
react, but because I know all too well.
On New Year’s Eve
in 2010, I received a late night call from Mike Talbert, husband of
my lifelong friend. “Jane fell,” he said. “We’ve air-lifted
her to Tupelo. Please come.” It was no mere fall. Jane’s dog had
dragged her on the leash, slammed her head into the concrete and
caused a massive brain hemorrhage.
Jane was lucid when
I arrived. In fact, she was laughing and joking about celebrating the
New Year in ER. One of her daughters suggested we get party hats and
bazookas.
By morning, Jane
was in ICU in a coma.
I camped out in the
waiting room, living for my turn to hold her hand and say, “Jane,
you’re strong. You’ll beat this. I’m right here and I won’t
let you go.”
And I didn’t. I
was there when her heart stopped, there when she came out of brain
surgery, there every day telling her the same thing. Not in a
whispery, scared way, but in the strong way of a woman who will fight
a cross-cut saw for those she loves.
Miraculously, Jane
not only survived, but she regained full use of motor skills and
cognitive abilities. I’ll never forget what she told me. It was
months after the accident, when she could finally talk.
“I heard you when
I was in the coma. It was your strong voice that pulled me out.”
I am so blessed to
have a friend like Jane and to know she would do exactly the same
thing for me. I am so grateful to have sisters as well as sisters of
the heart who inspire me to write novels such as The Oleander
Sisters, The Sweetest Hallelujah, The Language of Silence.
I’ve love to hear
about your sisters of the heart.
Thanks so much for letting me stop by
to chat!
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