It seems that my answer to about half of the questions in this forum is the same. My family. This is my answer again today.

2008 was a difficult year for me. It started good and strong, but in May I got sick and remained sick for several months. This past summer was my worst in memory.

But I did have a couple adventures. The first was when I spent a month with my mother in St. Louis while seeing a specialist there. Only part of my time was occupied with medical treatment. The rest of the time I had fun being with my mother, going to thrift stores and other outings. And we spent election night together. That was truly exciting.

My second adventure just ended when our family took our second annual trek down to Florida. We found a wonderful resort on Tampa Bay with a balcony overlooking the water. The sunshine revived me more than anything else ever could. And we all--my husband, my three youngest sons, and me--enjoyed each other's company. The trip was truly memorable.

I didn't take any major risks this year. Not now. But I came through the year and ended up stronger than I was. That's something.

No more bloodshed. At least, stop killing and maiming the children.

Use Vista. I never planned to come near this program, but I decided to buy a new laptop in December, when I could get a good deal, and I couldn't afford to install all new software. So far, it's not as difficult as I thought it would be. But I still prefer Windows XP.

My "alone" time. Being with friends is good and being with my family is fantastic, but I always need some time, every day, to be by myself. Often, such as during our recent family trip to Florida, I find that late at night while everyone else is asleep. When I was at my mother's house for Thanksgiving, I withdrew sometimes to another room to get away from all the noise and chaos.

I like being with the people I love, but sometimes it drains me. I need some moments to be by myself, collecting my thoughts and relaxing in the silence.

I wish I could be more positive, but it's been days since we've had sunshine and the forecast doesn't look promising. When the sun is out, it's easy for me to celebrate many things about life, big and small. But I don't do well with gray skies.

I did start reading a book last night that is hard to put down. Let me finish before I divulge the title. I can say it's one of those rare books that captures the reader from the first page. In this case, the second sentence pulled me in.

I don't reflect as much as I did when I was younger, but when I do it's usually at night and always when I'm alone. The last time was in Tampa, just about two weeks ago. (Now that we're back home, it feels like years ago.) We were staying at a resort overlooking Tampa Bay. My husband and sons had gone out. I sat on the balcony and gazed out over the bay. I've rarely felt so relaxed. It was wonderful.

Yes, actually, I think there is, to a degree. A little suffering can teach patience and gratitude.

When I was young, around 10 or 12, I "suffered" on purpose, playing outside on a hot summer day and then closing myself in my bedroom, where the air conditioning window unit couldn't get to me, with a tall glass of ice water. I wanted to make myself tougher, and I think it worked.

Suffering can range from delayed-gratification to true tragedy. Even in tragedy, it's important to remember the lessons life teaches. Self-pity is immobilizing and useless.

I don't like to see others suffer. But I am, in retrospect, thankful for the suffering I've experienced, from the pangs of childbirth and the difficulties of miscarriage to the illnesses and injuries I've survived. Suffering hasn't killed me yet, and I do feel stronger for my experiences.

I was born into a Christian family and later converted to Islam. There are times when I wish I had been born into a Muslim family, not because I don't love and respect my own family, but because I wish I could share my faith with them. Also, it would have been easier if I had learned how to read, write, and speak Arabic as a child. When I did start learning, I was 23, and it's been much more difficult for me. My children all began learning Arabic when they were four years old. My oldest is fluent, and all can read fluently.

My life is always in a state of flux. Sometimes I concentrate more on my writing. Sometimes it's the household or family chores. Last year I spent a month focusing on my health. The only constant is the needs of my children.

It would be great if I could do a little of each area each day. But the older I get, the less focused I am. So I've begun to live the way I've always eaten--concentrating on one main thing at a time--and as long as I don't forget anything, I'm balanced. In my own way, of course.

Every time there is a conflict somewhere in the world, I hear, or read, of people who say we should just bomb them all and get rid of them. It was first famously said centuries ago. "Kill them all and let God sort it out."

Whether we're talking about women in My Lai or children in Gaza, massacre is always wrong. It cannot be justified by claims of revenge or "containment." Murder is murder.

So why do so many continue to justify the killing of innocents? Not only is this hard for me to accept, but I swear that I never will. Life without compassion is hardly worth living.

When my sons were young and afraid of the dark or a new face, I tried to reassure them. Now I have only one who still shows occasional fear, but he reacts most often to gruesome thoughts and pictures, and I'm with him on that.

My fears are both rational and irrational. My feelings about airplanes have as much to do with the pressure during take-off and the shakiness of landing (not to mention the turbulence in the air) as they do with an actual fear of flying. However, I first became afraid to fly after the Korean airlines flight was shot down over Russia, back in the 80s. In the fall of '85, we flew that same route on the same airline, and it was frightening.

Sometimes, if I hear or read a certain word or phrase late at night, when everyone else is asleep, I get spooked. But I'm able to deal with it.

My biggest fears have been rooted in the actions of others. As a child, I grew up during the Red Scare. We had a few years of respite before the beginning of the War on Terror. As a Muslim, my greatest fear is that I will not be granted the rights of a citizen (not to mention a member of the human race).

Two years ago the doctor put me into the hospital to run two tests. Both were grueling, and one was especially painful. For the other, I couldn't eat or drink until the test was completed, and somehow they forgot about me so I went much longer than I should have without nutrition. On top of that, the smells of the hospital irritated my allergies and made me weak. By the time I was able to check out, I had to leave in a wheelchair and my husband had to help me into the car.

I have concluded that I do not want to go into a hospital unless that is the absolute only option. Being the hospital two years ago made me feel much sicker than I actually was.

God's mercy.

In the novels I write.

I would like to know and understand more languages. Spanish is at the top of my list because it's the first language for my granddaughters. I've tried to learn Thai, my husband's language, but it is very hard to speak. When I was in college I studied German, New Testament Greek, and some Hebrew and Latin, but I've never had a gift for grasping grammar. I would also like to speak everyday Greek and, of course, Arabic.

My oldest is very gifted, and is fluent in Arabic, Spanish, and French--at one time he was also fluent in Thai, and I'm sure that language is still buried in his brain. I'm glad he has that natural ability, and I wish I had it too.

No, I wouldn't want to live forever on this earth. We must all make way for the coming generations, just as our ancestors made way for us. That's the natural way.

I would like to live to be eighty. When I'm eighty, my oldest granddaughter will be thirty and my youngest son will be forty. That will give me nearly twenty-eight more years to write what I need to write and see what I hope to see.

God has determined my lifespan. There was a time when I was afraid I would die while my children were small. Now they are mostly grown and the older ones are able to take care of the younger. I'm very grateful for the time I have already had.

But twenty-eight more years would be wonderful.

Over the last three days we've been hit by a series of ice and snow storms, the kind of weather we moved to Kentucky to avoid. My kids will have their fourth snow day of the week tomorrow, and my husband, the principal, is also home. It's cold outside and too slick to go very far, so cabin fever is natural.

But this morning my son called from his college, forty miles away, and said that since the power at his school still wasn't back on (it went out yesterday afternoon, but he assured me last night that he was warm and comfortable) they were closing the school down and sending as many students as possible home. Now, at the time he called we were experiencing another heavy snow, which fell on top of the freezing rain and sleet we received overnight. So even forty miles south on the interstate seemed too difficult--we weren't even sure we could get out of our driveway.

We kept in contact with him throughout the day. After the snow stopped my husband thawed out the car and freed it from the driveway. He ate a quick lunch and put on his coat. Then my son called. A shuttle bus would bring them home. Yes, them. He invited three of his friends to stay with us. (Two are from another state, and one is from Zimbabwe.)

The college had already scheduled a break for next week, so we'll have a full ten days or so with a full house. And I love it. Over the years, our household of six boys had dwindled down to two, and it was much too quiet. Now we're back up to six boys and they've brought all the liveliness I have been missing.

I didn't want the snowstorm or the ice storm, and I nearly panicked when my son called this morning. But now we have the blessing of a houseful of boys, and it's wonderful.

My intuition is as silent as a whisper. It's a tickle in my brain, a slight tug in the right direction.

I knew you were going to ask that! :-)

Not really. But I've had several experiences over the years. What's frustrating is that I can't remember the details of any just now. (The future I can work with. It's the present that trips me up.)