Wow, life can really gut-punch us at times. My last two months have been emotional, aggravating, and insightful. After a long battle with cancer, my dear sister-in-law passed away last week. Contemplating the afterlife while writing a novel can be helpful, but I'd rather have Dorie here to hug again.
The poison ivy was my fault. I willingly walked through a patch of it as a short cut on the way home from a walk. Bad idea. I had to get steroids and it's still on my legs two weeks later. Hmmm, maybe I'll use the experience for my novel, since the stuff grew all over North America back in the 1680's.
There are lots of articles about grief across the internet, and I scanned them for words of wisdom for my brother. In the end, all I could do was be with him and offer a shoulder for him. At the memorial services, I told fond stories about Dorie; I cried; I made small talk with folks I didn't know. At the back of my mind a thought brewed:
We are fragile creatures, we humans.
I resolved to use my remaining time wisely.
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