Writing for Mama

writingThis is harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t realize how difficult this could actually get. I considered giving up on this blog and my writing dream when Mama died. She believed in me and my writing before anyone else did and I didn’t know if I would be able to carry on without her support. Then too, there would be the issue of trying to write without being overwhelmed with thoughts of her. I ultimately decided that continuing on with this and every other aspect of my life is what she would want me to do. But it sure hasn’t been easy.

It’s like the words are stuck. It’s weird, because writing has always been easy for me. The words would just flow with little effort. Quite often, it was a struggle to get them to stop. Mama always said that I have a gift. Now it’s like I’m groping in the dark to find what I want to say. My hope is that by putting this down in black and white, maybe I can beat this. I may not even publish this; I don’t know yet. Writing has always helped me work through problems I needed to solve or decisions I needed to make. But I’ve never had trouble writing before. How can writing save me this time, when it’s a fight to even put this on paper? I feel like I’m lost. Maybe I’ll try telling a story.

It was almost a year ago that I first started this blog. It was her idea of course. “Have you ever considered doing a blog?” Out of the blue, her question jolted me. I had never thought of blogging before. “Just something to think about,” she said and that was the end of the conversation. So I did think about it for several weeks. Even as I went about my normal life, it was always in the back of my mind. Every once in a while, I’d ask her a question. What would I write about? Would anyone read it? Who could I get to help me set it up? Could I do any good with a blog? Every step of the way, she was there to help and encourage. When I finally launched in May of ’15, I think she was more excited than I was. And when I had to give it up a few months later, she was so disappointed.

Between work, life, and taking care of her, there just wasn’t time for extras. So I did what I had to do. And I didn’t mind, not really. We would talk about it every once in a while. She encouraged me to keep writing as I had time. Even if I didn’t publish what I wrote. She didn’t want me to give up on my dream. The re-launch in January was her idea too. Life was stabilizing and she seemed to be doing okay. “New year, new start,” she told me. So I did. Three weeks later she was gone. And this blog is all I have left of her. So no matter how hard it is, I won’t let go. As long as I have this, it’s like she is still here with me. And I think I’ve worked through my writer’s block. Thanks, Mama.

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