My mind has developed this marvelous trick which I embrace every year. Instead of being paralyzed with sadness, I pay no attention to the 16th. On the 19th, the day my mind insists is the anniversary of my mother’s death, I’m relieved to discover I’ve lived through another year. I’m waiting for my mind to develop more tricks to get me past other roadblocks, but so far it hasn’t.
It has produced some decent stories and characters I’ve enjoyed spending time with. This is where I’m now – spending time with a cast of novel characters, polishing their speech, improving their verbs, possibly holding them too close. The question becomes,when will I get past the point of being afraid it isn’t good enough and let others see it? I thought I was ready, but I’m not.
My “band” is breaking up; Gina has moved to Pennsylvania so the monthly meetings will change but I do hope they continue. I’m trying out another group. One meeting in and I’m willing to see where it goes. It’s hard not to have expectations, of wanting what I had in the “cheerleaders,” but I don’t remember the beginning. Maybe it was exactly like this and the strangeness and unknown expectations are normal to joining all new groups.
Another year, another set of doldrums, same old me wishing you well and appreciative of your stopping by for the read.