I met with my Thursday morning Breakfast Club this morning for the first time in three weeks. These are my core friends, my sisters in every way but blood. Each one of us is an entrepreneur, although Betty and Sandy have both retired. My friends have been wonderfully supportive while Mom was so ill.

This morning Nina (creator of Cats by Nina) brought a passage she'd read from a book dealing with death and loss. It was a fictional tale of a woman who'd lost her father and was filled with insight and depth into the grieving process. When I commented on how wise this author was and how comforting I found her words, Nina announced the passage she had quoted was from Lydia, my character in THE SHOP ON BLOSSOM STREET. I couldn't help tearing up. Never did I imagine when I penned those lines that they would one day be quoted back to me to help me deal with the pain of losing my mother. God works in wondrous ways.

I had such good intentions to start on the HEARTS DIVIDED anthology yesterday. (I did write the first chapter!) Instead, I spent nearly the entire morning reading my mother's five-year diary from World War II. It was just wonderful, filled with such love and hope and her dreams for my dad and her after the War. For those of you who don't know, my Dad was a POW, and for a dreadful six months there was no word from him. When he was released and returned home from the war, he barely weighed a hundred pounds. I was blessed with wonderful parents and Mom's sixty-year-old diary helped remind me of that.

I'm excited because I'm starting a new book today. It's an anthology with Katherine Stone and Lois Faye Dyer, about war brides titled HEARTS DIVIDED,and is scheduled for publication in early 2006.

I agreed to be part of this anthology because my mother was a war bride—she married my dad during the War—and because she had recently given me the diary she kept during the war years. It's the five-year variety with only a few lines for each day. But it's what's between the lines that says so much. Here's an example.

February 16, 1944—It's a year now that my darling has been gone (to war)—a good cry—darn near killed me. Ted, you've just got to come home soon.

There was another entry I tried to find again and couldn't. Somehow my father was able to send my mother roses while he was fighting in Europe. I can't imagine how he arranged this. My mother was moved to tears. All that I remember of her journal entry was Oh, my heart.

I'm back and want to thank you for the outpouring of prayers, love and support. I felt it in more ways than I can explain. Mom's funeral services were held last Thursday as my brother and I and our families gathered with other relatives and friends to say goodbye. I believe Mom would have been overwhelmed by all those who loved her.

I wanted to share the eulogy my daughter delivered at Mom's services. Jody is my oldest, and you'd have to know her to appreciate how difficult it was for her to stand up in front of a large gathering. She did a tremendous job and didn't falter, even once. This is the tribute she wrote to her grandmother. Again, thank you for being so generous and kind to me during this time of loss.

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My Grandma, Rose "Connie" Adler, taught me how to love unconditionally. Grandma's love was always genuine, sincere and constant.

Has anyone's face brightened EVERY time you walked in the door? Grandma's did. She was always so happy to see us.

Has anyone's voice sounded so happy every time you called? Grandma's did. It always got just a little bit cheerier when she found out it was me on the line.

Has anyone wanted to spend every minute of every day with you? Grandma did. She would like nothing better then to spend hour after hour with us. Not really doing anything, just being together was enough.

Has anyone wanted to help with everything? Grandma did! She always wanted to contribute somehow. Whether it be in the kitchen "making memories" or entertaining the great-grandkids, Grandma would not rest until all was done.

Has anyone thought you were perfect and was willing to argue with anyone who didn't agree? Grandma did. She could find nothing wrong with us, even when our faults were staring us right in the face. I could do no wrong in the eyes of Grandma.

Has anyone been so proud of you that they talked to strangers about how fantastic you are? Grandma did. Grandma would brag to the point of embarrassment to anyone who would listen about how wonderful her family was.

Has anyone shared everything they had with you? Grandma did. My grandma was the most giving person I know. She considered it an honor to share, whether it was the newest kitchen gadget, a secret family recipe, or the latest craft she and her sister, Paula, had completed. Nothing was off limits in grandma's heart.

Has anyone cooked you meal after meal, and each one was your favorite? Grandma's were. Grandma's cooking was the best. It didn't matter if she was cooking a turkey, homemade mini pizzas or the yucky green beans. It was all good by the time Grandma got done.

Has anyone ALWAYS been there when you needed them? Grandma was. It didn't matter what the situation, I knew my Grandma would understand! And not hold a grudge.

Has anyone had so much faith in you that it was scary? Grandma did. She never showed any signs of doubt. Grandma thought we could anything. It could be something as simple as setting her alarm clock, or as difficult as finding the courage and strength to be a single mom. Grandma never lost her faith in me.

Has anyone been so strong you never thought they would fall? Grandma was. Even after the death of Grandpa last year, Grandma was determined to be the anchor that ties her family together.

Has anyone been your friend even when you weren't theirs? Grandma was. There were times when I was young and selfish and didn't deserve the love and support Grandma gave, but she never faltered, and forgave me my faults.

My grandma showed me the true definition of unconditional love by being the greatest example ever. The utmost gift I can give Grandma now is to love others as she loved me. I will continue to make my Grandma proud!

Has anyone ever loved you like this? My grandma did!

To Debbie's Wonderful Readers:

Many thanks for all of you who prayed that Debbie's mom could pass in peace. Debbie was with her mother, holding her hand, when she died Sunday night.

Although she has not yet been able to read the many heartfelt messages you've sent to her, Debbie is touched by the tremendous love and support you've sent her way.

The following is part of what Debbie wrote this morning for her mother's
obituary:

Rose "Connie" Adler, 82, passed away with the same gentle grace with which she lived, on March 20, 2005 in Port Orchard, Washington.

Born in Dickinson, North Dakota, Connie was a welder in the Portland, Oregon shipyards for Liberty Ships during War World II. She lived in Yakima, WA, with her husband, Ted, for many years before moving to Port Orchard last year. Connie was passionately devoted to her children and grandchildren, who deeply loved her in return. She enjoyed gardening, golfing, crafts, dancing with Ted and cooking delectable meals for her family and friends.

Vigil services will be Wednesday, March 23, at 6 p.m. at Langevin-Mussetter Funeral Home, 1010 Yakima Ave., Yakima, WA 98902. The funeral service is Thursday, March 24, at 10 a.m. at Holy Family Catholic Church.

Connie was deeply loved by her family and friends. Those who wish to leave a tribute message may do so by visiting www.mem.com . Langevin-Mussetter Funeral Home is entrusted with the arrangements.

For those who've inquired about Debbie's mailing address so they could send condolence cards, it is PO Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.

Debbie’s staff

As you may know from Debbie’s recent e-letters and her blog, her mom's health has been declining rapidly. Sunday her mom fell, and subsequently suffered a massive stroke. She is now in the hospital in Bremerton in a coma and not expected to live.

Debbie is at her mom's beside. We ask that you keep Debbie, her mom and their family in your prayers. We will let you know if there is any change in Debbie's mom's condition.

Renate

I'm happy to report that my computer lives! It was the power supply that blew, so the memory remained intact. There were a lot of joyous shouts from my little turret.

Yes, I write in a turret. That sounds wonderfully romantic, doesn't it? If you had to climb those stairs as many times a day as I do, I'll bet you wouldn't think so. A friend drove by the big, blue Victorian-style building not long ago on a foggy morning and took a really nice picture. I’ll try to get it pasted to the scrapbook page in a few days. It's a bit blurry because of the fog so don't try to refocus your computer screen. Yes, it's true, I write above a book store and an ice cream parlor. This is a writer's nirvana.

Have a wonderful weekend. Oh, before I forget, I've been called for jury duty next week so if I get selected, I'll have Renate (my able bodied assistant) drop you a line and let you know what's happening.

My morning started off with a bang—literally. I came into the office following breakfast with my Breakfast Club, read the day's mail, and headed up to my office. One of the e-mails I got brought a smile, so I thought while my computer warmed up I'd call Wayne and read it to him. I turned on my computer – and bang! That's right, it sort of exploded. It wasn't a big bang, but it definitely got my attention; it got Wayne's attention, too. He thought I dropped something big. Then a burning smell came out of it and smoke—I thought it was smoke anyway – so I leaped out and cried out to Renate that my computer was on fire. I also hung up on my husband, who immediately tried to phone back. Renate rushed up the stairs, where I was dancing around, not knowing what else to do.

In case you weren't aware of this, God looks after mad dogs, Englishmen, and romance writers. I've seen more evidence of that than I have time or space to document. Yesterday afternoon Renate copied all my chapters on my current project. I have a hard copy but am now spared needing to reenter each one. I'll be writing on my lap top today and will let you know what happened to my poor computer, but I have the distinct feeling it bit the dust.

I mentioned Wayne arrived home after the long drive from Florida, didn't I? One of the first things he asked was, "What's the deal with all the fruitcake around the house?" I explained I'd been trying out the recipes I'm using in the Christmas book I recently finished. Wayne was quick to remind me that he isn't all that fond of fruitcake. If I was in the baking mood, he'd prefer chocolate chip cookies or apple pie. Still, he doesn't object to a sweet after dinner on occasion and if the house is full of fruitcake, then he thought he should give them a taste. The first one he found too rich, the second too sweet, but the third was just right. He reminded me of Papa Bear in Goldilocks and the Three Bears, even though it was Goldilocks who did all the tasting.

After two weeks in Florida, Wayne and his buddy Norm arrived home late last night. Our new pooch, Dewey, and I were more than excited to see Wayne. It was hard to tell which one of us was jumping higher.

You'll be happy to know I'm going back to Blossom Street for an anthology I'm writing titled More Than Words. This is a philanthropy project Harlequin is doing, and I'm one of five authors who is highlighting a charity. Mine is Melissa's Living Legacy, an organization that makes things better for teens living with cancer by offering emotional support to them, their families and their friends. It's a wonderful cause in memory of Melissa, who died at age 19 after a two-year struggle with cancer. Because Lydia had cancer as a teenager, I thought it would be great to involve her in the story. I'll keep you updated on this wonderful project.