When I was writing the book I thought a lot about this. I decided not to tell stories about my cousins. I mentioned them but not in any detail. In my rewriting I've struggled with how much to write about the two men I loved. I loved way more than two but there were two who felt the most ...uh...real. Er sumthin. I felt like my parents were fair game because our stories are so intertwined.
And now, my story is all about Mom. I feel a bit unsure when I begin to write. Mom would never know what I've written. And maybe for just that reason I feel the need to be careful.
Things were going fairly well for a short time and then it felt like we fell off a cliff. Right now I am at a loss for how to make things better. I feel like I can't do things fast enough. I'm not totally comfortable with writing out the details. It's just been rough. There have been health issues. Serious? Yes. And no. Health issues when you're almost 89 are ... I dunno. Normal? It's so hard to know how to think and feel and talk about it all.
Rightly or wrongly this blog has been a journal and lately a chronicle of Mom and I. I've had a few ideas for blog posts that didn't have anything to do with story. Random thought posts. But I so rarely have time and/or energy.
So. That's the story.