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Jackie O'Donnell Biography

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“Slowly, fearfully, I crept into the kitchen. The gas-smell burned my nostrils. It hadn't been on long enough to fill the room and spill out to the rest of the house. But its intent was clear: my mother was sitting on a chrome dinette chair, legs crossed at the ankles, her arms dropped down her sides toward the floor, as if in submission to her impending death. (The Women in Me: How They Helped Me Survive and Thrive, p. 13)”

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“Ahhh…17. The age when love is the most important thing in the world. Well, at least having a boyfriend is, since all the other girls I saw seemed to float dreamy-eyed while being glued to a boy. Naturally, I fell in love for the first time in my life. Better still (in the other girls’ eyes), he was an older man—six years older than me. He was so gorgeous, with his athletic build, dark, touchable hair, ocean blue eyes that invited me to swim in them…sigh…. Then there was that dimpled smile that made me melt. And could he ever kiss! (p. 22)”

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“The first man I dated was just the relief I needed from stress. He was a very good dancer. In fact, he was very much a party person. I was ready for some fun. He liked driving to the ocean in his fully equipped, gleaming white camper. There he would hike around the area and spend some time just chilling. We dated only a few months before getting engaged. Yup. I did it again. I jumped at the first relationship that made me feel good. Then I discovered that he had another girlfriend along with me. (p. 49)”

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“As I’m writing this, I look down at my companion, my cat, Butter. He’s in one of his favorite positions, sprawled out, belly up, at my feet. We share as close a human-animal bond as possible, which is quite a bit. Not all cats obviously allow themselves to love you or even acknowledge your existence, but Butter does. Those soulful green eyes looking up at me in trusting dependence assure me that I am special, even if I am a human being. (p. 113)”

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“When I recall the morning that the paramedics wheeled Ray out of the house on that sterile-looking gurney, my stomach churns, wanting to vomit. This was possibly the most traumatic day of my life. I was terribly frightened by my intelligent best friend-husband’s uttering inconceivable utterings, making no sense, which told me that he was having a massive stroke. I followed the screaming ambulance to the hospital, where they rushed him in for the MRI that confirmed the stroke. (p. 97)”

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Book:The Women in Me: How They Helped Me Survive and Thrive
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