Too long

 

   It has been more than a year since I added to this blog.  Too long.
   I wrote some since the last post.  Couple of 15 minute monologues for friends.  A couple of 10-minute plays.  Nothing revolutionary.
   But there has been a revolution in me... and the world.
   I turned 65 at the end of June 2019.  16, 18, 21, 30, 40... None of the classic milestone birthdays had ever meant much to me.  But 65...
   My son died May 10, 1982.  He was 10 months old.  He was born in June.  We had nearly the same birthday.  Me, 28 June.  Him, 23 June.
   For years, the time between the beginning of May and the end of June was difficult for me.  I did what I could to avoid thinking about...
   But my grieving was stuffed.  I avoided my feelings.  I turned to alcohol and drugs.  After I got sober many years ago, I still avoided my feelings.
   Until my 65th birthday.  I have been grieving... and avoiding for nearly a year now.
   It's May again.

   And the world... <shakes head and snorts>

  Life in Pink - Kate Nash

  I questioned (prayed) whether I should write anymore.

  And the answer.  An acceptance that the world cut short.

  Requests... many requests for writing.  People, the creator(s) of the universe, friends, family, colleagues. The answer has been made abundantly clear. 

KEEP WRITING! 

   You too.

   The notes for the play from the post a year ago?  Still... still...  Another day... perhaps.