Tag: on writing

Sometimes Disease Gets in the Way



Today, I need a moment of reflection.

It’s beautiful outside. The fragrance of blossoms is everywhere. The air is slightly balmy here in Virginia, the trees are in full bloom, some already with leaves formed and unfurled. Others, like the azaleas, are rampant in their color, the brightest salmon pinks to the most virginal whites. The birds are busy building nests and families, my bees are doing what they always do this time of year . . . swarming. It’s spring as nature intended it to be: a time of re-birth and healing.

And yet, awful things still happen. Even in the midst of all of this beauty, people get sick.

I have been very lucky in my life that disease has stayed far away from those whom I love. Not 100%, of course, but enough of a distance to be a bearable discomfort that one simply bears. Tolerable. Not earth shattering. Stay plucky. Move on.

Well, it was only a matter of time before that changed and now I find myself in a position that seemed improbable even just months ago. I’ve dealt with the “C” word one other time in my life – it was enough that go around. But here it is again and I have to watch another person I love go through it. And the apprehension over what they will have to endure and how utterly useless I feel on the sidelines has me overwhelmed. And scared. And really mad. Like seriously-utterly-without-a-doubt-furious.

And so where does all the anger go and why am I even writing about it here? I think you just got your answer.

The way through is writing. Write about it. Get it all out on paper and let the demons do their worst. The tragic irony is that this could end up being the most prolific time of my rather short writing career. A few days from now will be telling.

But right now, I’m packing my bags and getting my head in the game. Things like underwear and suitcase size take a precedent over writing. My next couple of days are about lists and more lists and making sure my better half doesn’t starve in my absence. And the dogs. And the plants. And the bees, too. Everyone needs to be settled so I can be ready for what comes next.

That’s all I can say right now, but my final words to you are this: take a moment to hug those you love and appreciate them. Cuddle them. Kiss them. Do something nice for them even if it’s the most trivial trifle. You’ll be glad that you did.