Purposeful Writing

While writing flash fiction and working on other, longer stories, I wondered about my lack of daily attention to this young blog of mine. Should I force myself to write something every day? Every week? At least once a month?

Checking my old blog, which I began years ago to keep track of everything going on during my journey through breast cancer, I wrote much more frequently. Those posts were purposeful. They contained information and dates which I might possibly need for future reference. I networked with other women experiencing and documenting their own path through breast cancer. Many of them quit blogging entirely after their last chemo treatment, moving onward in their lives.

I continued writing, having formed a kinship with others, joined writing challenges, until finally tapering off – especially since the death of one of my sons.

Copyright: mibryant

Most of my blogging acquaintances extended their sympathy to me. Death has an eerie side effect. People are uneasy and don’t know what to say to those who are grieving. It actually takes a bit of bravery to reach out to a grieving person. Yet, one woman reached out to me, after my very first, heart-wrenching account of watching my son die to pancreatic cancer. The woman basically told me to ‘move on, get over it’. Later, I learned, she had never married nor given birth. Only a mother, or father, can imagine the pain I endured.

It is four years now since my son’s death. I have moved on in my life. I will NEVER get over the untimely, gruesome death of my son. Instead, like many others who grieve the loss of a child, grief is an appendage now. It is with me, within me. I learned how to live WITH grief. I do not fight it. It is a part of me. When it screams for attention, I find busy-work to do rather than sit and cry, although, sometimes I still need to cry.

But, I am not writing the story of losing my son for sympathy. I am working on a memoir for the purpose of conveying to others what it was like, and how I learned to live without my son. I am not a writer for glory, fame, nor riches, although the latter would help pay for new windows in our home, I choose to be an advocate to others in whatever way I am able.

Until next time, whenever that may be, surround yourself with love.

“For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.”

 – Khalil Gibran

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