Three years ago on this date, I wandered into the Homer Bookstore, my local independent bookstore extraordinaire, and found my first poetry collection Pause Traveler prominently displayed next to an amazing book by my friend Eva Saulitis whose book snuggled up against an amazing book by my friend Peggy Shumaker. Seeing my book in the company of two other writers who I admire so much was hard to process.
Two years ago on this date, I was mourning the loss of my seventeen-year-old dachshund and planning on visiting my parents. My mother wasn’t doing well, and I wanted to visit her before I headed off to a writer’s residency in May. I didn’t know that it was the last visit I would ever make while she lived.
One year ago around this date, I made vast and intricate plans on how I was going to keep up this blog. Most of all, I wanted to kickstart my writing. Grief over the loss of both my parents and my beloved old dog had tumbled me so hard, I just couldn’t find words.
Last night, I wrote, “Finding words scattered, she opened her mouth and invited in some birds.”
Today, I redesigned this blog. I want to start again. I want to invite in the birds and spring rain that is caressing the metal roof and cold ocean air. I want to find my words. More than ever. Jim Harrison wrote, “Death steals everything except our stories.” So many deaths. So many stories.