I’ve written about the fact that I created a set of creative non-fiction during the school year that focused on Illness, Death, and God based very simply on my Aunt’s battle of cancer. There is still one more act left to those writings and they started to come together tonight as my mother started a hospice suggested coma to help my Aunt get through the next hours and the pain they can bring.
When I wake up tomorrow I hope the chapter has ended. I know that this site was never intended to be a muse for such seriousness and so I will share a conversation I had with my mother before I left about the fact that I would indeed be using my blog for immediate therapy ….
“You have always been able to write, and I could never do anything that creative.”
“Yes, but I can’t punctuate for shit, so I’d need to be good enough that a publishing company would be willing to edit and correct my spelling.”
“Well I always wished you’d have grown up to be a writer.”
“Wished?”
“Mom you know that writing isn’t like stripping right?” “I mean no one is going to make me work the day shift because I’m too old.”
My mom laughed for just a minute and that made me feel like I had given something valuable besides the meal I cooked tonight. I hope that I can continue to bring her little laughs as life is about to nose dive, and we all forgot our chutes.