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My mother's writer


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My mother was the only one I would really show my poems to. I use to write a lot. Short stories, Long poems, even began a novel. My mother's opinion is what always mattered. I would write something, print it out and give it to her to read. My writing, the stories i told were always drawn from my life. Many of them included my mother and in many ways i think my writing validated her experiences. I am trying to write about my mother now. It flows like never before. It comes easy without pushing. It captures, my memories of my life with her. It captures her. I've found, in many ways, the writing is helping me deal with the grief, acknowledge it, hold it, place it in front of me and look deeply into it. While I'm writing i feel fully, the pain. Not sobbing, or screaming, but feeling the pain, the loss and then amazingly, somehow, I feel the life again. The life with my mother. Sounds wierd but it works for me. Below is a small piece of a book i'm writing about my experience losing my mom...However, what i would like to do is have my experience help another through their experience. That is my hope.

This part is from a section called "the mirror"..When i first entered the ER to find my mother, I first saw her reflection in a small mirror and I stood and stared at her reflection..she looked in one word..despaired. It was the most painful day of my life.

The hospital felt like a maze. The curtain which separated us from the ER could not block the business, the rumbling of the world. I think one of the most painful things about crisis is that your world stops as the hills start crumbling and the world outside continues. You hear talking, laughter, plans being made, lunches being heated in the microwaves, a nurse going to get dunkin donut coffee, a doctor laughing, gum snapping and it goes on and on and on and slowly, drastically, painfully our world screeched, echoed in our hearts to a complete stop, a stillness, a sort of floating in mid air, wondering, just how we will get our feet back on the ground with the others, with the rest of the businesss.


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Beautifully written.......

I think we all know that feeling. Life does not stop for anyone. I remember when my Step-Dad died of lung cancer almost 3 years ago and I learned then that life around us just keeps going even though we feel that our universe was just jolted.

Take care and keep writing.........


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