When our Creativity is Interupted

 I used to love writing, whether it was here on this blog or on the extraordinary classroom or thinking of my next children's book.

Over the last 6 years my love of writing has wanned. Now as I sit here in front of this screen at 4:46 am, I've come to realize that my creativity is directly tied to the well being and peace of my soul.

Life and all its tragedies has a way of chipping away at all that gives us joy. 

My decline, so to speak, began when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. Her one year battle to her first remission saw a strong, power house of a woman brought to her knees. Her remission was short lived and within a year the cancer took her from us. My sister and I spent two weeks in her hospital room watching as she slowly faded away. I never had a chance to say all that I wanted to share with her because I was called home from a trip when she was admitted to the hospital and intubated. 

I remember our last hug the day before I left. She had grown so small and frail she fit easily in my arms. I was certain we would be together again upon my return.

I can't begin to describe the anguish of watching her fade away, of hearing the sounds she made as her body degraded. The cruelty of starving someone even when they are dying is indescribable.

Three years later, we said goodbye to my brother at the age of 51. His 7 year battle with cancer was valiant. I was 10 years older than my brother and during our childhood I was charged with his care. I was much like a sister mother! We had a very special bond. I miss him everyday.

My father is 90 years old and he survived both of these losses like a warrior.

Three months ago my daughter's husband passed away just two short months after they were married.

What do I take from all this loss?

There is no rhyme or reason to life. We control very little. We can't bend people to our will or predict outcomes. Life is a tide, its rises and ebbs and we rest on top of the crest, pushed forward whether we like it or not. In every minute there are a million moving parts that create our daily experiences.

We must accept what is handed to us-what choice do we have?

I reflect on my mother's journey and think back on how she handled her many losses.

She was a practical woman, she loved deeply but also knew how to suffer losses and still find the courage to move forward everyday.

Here is where I draw my strength. We grieve, recover and remember.

Slowly the joy returns in the smiles of a grandchild, a call from a friend, a walk through a nature trail, watching the sunrise. Eventually, one day we wake up and feel somewhat whole again.

 I carry the people I have lost with me everyday, finding strength in the knowledge that they are at peace in the arms of God. One day we will meet again!

As for me, I am finding my way back to doing what I love.

We never forget and we are not alone on this journey we call life. We move forward together toward a common end. May your journey be blessed and rich in adventure. Surround yourself with family and friends.

Simply live!