Someone once asked me if I would ever quit writing, and at the time I didn't have to think twice about an answer. As I had found that I really needed that timely routine of creativeness each day in some form for me to lead a healthy life.
It had been twenty some years since I first started writing, when Oprah advised us all to start journaling, when I rushed out to buy my supplies. I bought Pilot Pens and yellow legal tablets and sat down and began to write about my tears and fears.
I had recently become a widow and my thoughts then were scrambled and full of negatives. But I struggled to sort those feelings of anguish as she advised. It took many tablets and pens, but over time I arrived at a point where I could identify my feelings and include those words of discovery in my writing.
However, this early summer I had to give it up as I got sick. Really sick. As I lay, day after day, totally immobilized and totally dependent, losing all my dignity to this afflicson the one thing that gave me comfort at times was my imaginary stories. And, I wish now I could remember some of the plots and characters I created, although I did share a few with the kids and they did crack up. Of course, I was drugged sometimes which leads me to wonder if I am more creative if I'm in that state of limbo.
For now the days are long and still as I again write and wait, patiently for a complete recovery.