As a young mother, 14 years ago, I felt nailed down. This child, this new life, was priority one. I had to make sure she slept and ate. If she did, then I could.
All my stuff, all the things I wanted to do was second place at best.
I tried to leave the house. I remember Saturday at 5:30 AM trips to mcDonald’s playland frantic to leave my house and be around humans. I had my book in progress and all my side notebooks, working to keep ahold of myself in the wasteland.
When she started kindergarten, some people said “The time goes by so fast!”
Not for me. I felt every moment.
That is me. I feel the moments.
And when the oncologist gave me treatment plan, 5 months of chemo to be followed by another batch of radiation—the rest of the year at least!—all the moments strung together like an impossible cliff.
How could I do it? I had to find a way.
It is not the sickness that I fear the most. Although that is bad enough. The isolation and the lack of productivity is the worst.
And I remember the notebooks spread out at Playland. The notes, the drafts, the road I travelled and what I learned how to do.
Those were hard repetitive days.
As I recall, I need to keep a lot of notebooks at the ready. I had to make the time, make the habit, to string the words together. It doesn’t happen without effort.
I still found a way to be creative and be myself. I will do it again. I will do it still.