A few weeks ago I was with a group
of friends at a race track, and we were getting to watch the simulcast of the
Kentucky Derby when tragedy struck. An elderly woman at the table next to ours was
chatting with one lady in our group when she dropped dead. Literally.
Our waitress told us the woman had
been battling cancer and this was her first outing in a while. The family were
regulars and she loved coming to the track. I took comfort from that information.
The woman was enjoying a relaxing
afternoon with her family and friends, doing what she loved to do. Later we
learned she suffered a brain aneurism.
But the incident’s been sticking with me. This year I haven’t been writing for all sorts
of reasons and excuses. Then Mother’s
Day arrived, and I spent the day with other friends who have also lost their
mothers. We recounted favorite tales
about our moms, and I was reminded how much my mother believed in my writing. She was my biggest fan, and I knew she would
grieve that I wasn’t writing.
On the heels of Mother’s Day is my
birthday this weekend and later this year I’ll be celebrating my 25th
anniversary with the company I work for.
Hmm. I think life’s trying to tell me something
and the lines are converging.
My takeaways? Life is short; I’ve forgotten to write for the
sheer joy of writing; I’m at a turning point.
So this week I’ve been cleaning and
organizing the house, trying to bring order to my personal space. I’ve placed a
photo of Mom on the table where I usually write. Come tomorrow my birthday gift to myself will
be to put my butt in the chair and my hands on the keyboard with no plan or
forethought. What comes out may be
garbage, but I decided I’m not going to care so long as there are words on the
pages. We’ll see how it goes.
I’ve always said I’ve never wanted
to live life with regrets. It’s just too
damn short. When you hit a dry or
uncertain spell, what do you draw on for motivation?
Carol Stephenson
Justice At All CostsWebsite; Facebook; Twitter
