Funny thing about writing–once you shift from seeing your days as minutes and hours to moments and emotions, you get no say in who, what, where, when, and why story fragments show up.📚Trying to stop the words until you’re ready, with paper, pencil, peace, and a perfectly poured cup of coffee only makes them tumble …
Originally posted on BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog:
By Beth Morrow I made a new acquaintance recently who, in his days before three kids, a job in administration, and a divorce, had been an active and productive writer. He lauded me each evening for having sat down during this pandemic to flesh out the essays in…
Yesterday I mentioned that we’re slowly (or quickly, depending on perspective) closing in on the 6 month anniversary of when I lost my hubby to prostate cancer.
The number one, unquestionable lesson I’ve learned is…
On the 15th of October, around 10:25 a.m., I’ll be observing an anniversary of sorts that only a select group of people can fully comprehend and connect with. And one that only I internalize.
Thanks for being you. I know you don’t know I’ve been writing about P’s death, because I’ve only told J.
I was very aware before meditating of being in a very scattered, very headspace energy. I have just started a new relationship (not entirely sure it qualifies as a relationship yet, simply a new friendship?) and when this happens in my life, my thoughts always pull me out of the energy of the moment
Seems my family and friends are having great difficulty talking to me since my hubby’s death five and a half months ago. In that time, exactly a dozen people (excluding my teaching colleagues, whom I see daily) have been in touch with me the person, not me the widow.
From the time you stop counting the minutes between your spouse’s last breaths of earthly oxygen (I stopped at 7 minutes and 23 seconds before I called my dad to my husband’s hospice bed in the dining room to help me count), shit gets real…real fast.
Dear two bikers coming down the big hill at Battelle Darby Creek, as you rounded the path that parallels the creek itself: