Hi Everyone!

Ticktock! Ticktock! Ticktock!  Time’s rushing through my fingers and spilling in pieces on the floor. Where did you go September? I vaguely remember you from yesterday. I don’t know if the rest of you are as astonished as I at the warp speed of this year, but I feel like I’m in a wind tunnel, trying desperately to keep my balance and hold on to my being. And doggone it, that old adage of  time, the older you get the faster it goes, is true!  However, the speed of time passage doesn’t lessen the intensity of feelings when things happen to you. Events change your life. They can alter perceptions and beliefs. They can alter your heart.

I think that’s why I started writing “Bird.” Like so many of us dealing with aging parents, my mother began getting ill last year. During the last few months with her, we did a lot of talking. I mean we really did a lot of talking. Many hours were spent in the car, to and from doctor’s offices, not to mention the time spent waiting for all those appointments. I visited her almost daily, first in her senior living facility, then when things got exponentially bad, her nursing home. We talked about her childhood, my childhood, her hopes, my hopes, my father, our extended family, music, movies, bridge, holidays, cancer, treatments, and yes, death. You see, before she got ill, my Mom and I had never really connected. I could go into numerous reasons why we didn’t connect, but let’s just suffice to say that there were many reasons and they ran deep. But those last few months, those precious minutes spent just talking, made up for all the years we hadn’t connected. I got to know my mother, and she got to know me. That’s when I began to write “Bird.” I didn’t know that was the direction it would take, but that’s what emerged.

I lost my Mom to lung cancer this past March, but in the end, I not only found my Mom, I got a bonus. I got a friend. That’s a takeaway I will cherish.

 

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