Still, I wanted to remember everything I was going through. I wanted to write so I could process. I wanted to connect with others so we could laugh or cry together and know we weren't alone. The closest I got was a caregiver's class put on by the local hospital The class itself was a dud but the talks afterward in the parking lot were like coming up for air.
During this time I've also reconnected with an old writer friend. She, too was a caregiver who lost her mom. We've been each other's grief group, and may wind up as co-authors. Our comical book on the terrors of caregiving will be out...someday.
My mom used to write, and I've found some unmailed letters she wrote. I've found grocery lists and recipes and scribbled plans. I found a tissue where she blotted her lipstick in a perfect kiss (that one's going in a frame). I'm grateful for the time to go through this, but I sense a new season ahead.
So I drug out my dusty blog. Ugh. So much about Trumpism in the church. I was on a mission to understand it but I still don't. It grieves me, a phrase I don't use lightly. Especially now, with so many more confounding incidents to add. I did try to address it last year in a post, but never published it. I'm releasing it now, for whatever that's worth.
What now? I just learned the Write 31 Days project ended last year. So daily October blogging in community is out. Maybe I'll clean up around this place. I have 20 blog drafts. Maybe they'll lead to something. Maybe I'll find a new challenge. Maybe I just need to get started again.
Thanks to whoever is reading this. I know many were with 31 Days. So what are YOU writing now?