I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD-SLAPS, SPEED-BUMPS and LIGHT-BULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.



Thursday, February 19, 2015

Why I have not posted, why I have been so quiet


 My lesson.

Two o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon she felt a little off, nauseous, a bit dizzy. She told my daughter that she couldn’t watch the baby, stomach flu maybe, or undercooked chicken. She just didn’t feel right. Within less than a week this good woman in her mid-fifties was in the ICU, sedated and on a ventilator with pneumonia, heart attack and kidney failure.

We scrambled to watch the baby and maintain some balance within chaos. Frigid weather gripped the region, snow fell and gray skies became a bleak anthem to the 50/50 inevitable. We began to understand the overused turn regarding the raising of children, “…it takes a village.”

It’s been two weeks. One, I used as a vacation and the other a succotash of personal, sick and other time due me. Everyone has stepped up just to get through, just make to tomorrow, just to catch a glimpse of a tiny speck of light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel.

The light flickered two days ago. Yesterday morning the flame steadied and last night the tunnel began to lighten. The crisis is not over and the difficult road to a semblance of recovery is beginning. For an instant we are all able to catch a breath.

What does this have to do with writing?

For many of us writing is like breathing. For two weeks I have not been able to exhale because of calamity. Now I think I can breathe but I’m not taking that sweet air for granted.

It just happened so fast.

Like many writers I have novels, stories, memoirs, essays and the like, stashed away in a vault of dreams which has, at times, ruled my life. I would wish away my days in “why can’t tomorrow come faster”, like a kid anticipating Christmas. No longer.

I may not have tomorrow.

I will fight hard to not wish away my ‘now’ for the unknown of tomorrow. All we have is today, this hour, this minute, so why do we fill it with wanting and longing, rather than appreciating and being grateful.

In the past ten years I have written two novels, (women’s fiction), two memoirs, (one a WIP and one complete), hundreds of by-lined newspaper columns, hundreds of blog posts and thousands of blog comments. I have filled my life with words, engorged myself with hope and have experienced enough rejection to dilute and almost wash away my tenacity with tears. I have chanted, “…will I ever get an agent, will I ever have a title page…” a bazillion times until my mind and heart have gone numb. I cannot do it anymore. I will not.

I will write.

I will dream.

I will desire.
 
I will step aside when I must.

I will relish my days and hours and minutes of my ‘real’ life because when my Wednesday afternoon comes and I feel a little off, I want the world and my family to know, I lived. I didn’t just wish away my precious, wonderful, life for something else.

The baby arrives in minutes and I have no time to edit. So what. I know you understand.

6 comments:

  1. I certainly do understand, 2Ns. Time is precious. I chastised my kids for wishing it was Christmas, or next week, or tomorrow already. Don't wish time away. Waiting can be painful, but you'll never get those in-between hours back. Use them well.

    It sounds like your family have been through it. I hope all is well with the lady in question, and things settle back to some semblance of normalcy soon. I'm glad you've found time to share your words here and on Janet's blog today. Always a pleasure to read, even when the topic isn't necessarily pleasurable.

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    1. The woman is my son-in-law's mom. She watches the baby 4 days a week. She's a wonderful woman and we are praying that after time she will recover fully. It will be a very long road. Thanks for stopping by.
      BTW I love your comments over at Janet's. You crack me up.

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  2. What does it have to do with writing? Everything, of course. It's just very tough for our reminders to come like this, isn't it?

    I'm glad she's starting to do better.

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    1. She is doing better, thank God and all the angels that have flown our way. How fragile we all our is truly a reminder of close we are to death's door.

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  3. I wanted to comment just so you'd know I'm thinking of you, but Colin said it best. We wish our time away too easily. Be well, and take care of yourself 2Ns.

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  4. We're all guilty and the thing is, now that we're getting older, the time IS going by faster, and I want it to slow down. I say this every holiday, when I'm pulling decorations out feeling like I just put them away.

    Glad your son-in-law's mom is doing better. Get some rest!

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