Today I did something I have never done before. I submitted a story I wrote for a writing competition. It had to be a story never before published so I cannot share it until after the contest is over. I first heard of the contest back in December and I wasn't sure I could write something for it. The only real restrictions other than previously unpublished is that it had to be fiction and it had to be 500 words or less. I really wasn't sure how many words 500 was. So one night while I was staying overnight with mom I thought since their is nothing on TV at 3AM and I cannot sleep I will try to write something. So I started off with a piece of mom's paper and started. I wasn't sure what I would write about but I thought I just want to write a page and count the words and see what I have. That was how this started. The problem I didn't stop after the first page. I wrote 3 and a little more. The story tells the tale of person going to the beach and how both the beach and her are the same and they change. When I read back what I had written it made me cry. It was a metaphor for life. Mine maybe or maybe mom's. I wrote most in 3rd person as though I am watching someone else's life but then when I speak of the person at my age I used the word I. To some that means nothing to me it means that no matter I how try to separate my life from my mom's by growing up and moving out and even getting married we are still one in the same or are we?
I don't think I can say much more about the story but I was successful. It was just over 500 words. So as I typed it today to submit it. I typed as I originally wrote by hand and then edited just a few words and went from 512 to 500. So the whole thing seems like it was meant to be. I submitted it and now have to wait. It would be wonderful to be recognized for my ability to write but there are millions of people out there in the world waiting to be recognized for whatever they do that they enjoy. So I will only be disappointed for a minute because I know that when I read my work and when my best friend read it, there were tears in our eyes. I read it out loud today to Brian and he said he was crying before me. The important thing to learn was I can do anything I put my mind to. I am only limited by my own fears of failure.
Winning will not bring mom back so she cannot enjoy the fruits of my labor that evening. This piece however will always remind me of those days spent caring for mom. Sometimes that meant lifting her or helping her but sometimes it was just sitting with her. Talking to her. Listening to her stories. I have realized over the last few weeks I have been preparing for this year for a long time. Bits and pieces over my life then caring for our dog Kody for the 14 years we had him. Then in 2012 dealing with Brian's sister and her daughter and grand daughter's death and a few weeks later my cat of 21 years passed away and then a month later my grandmother. All those things taught me lots of things. How to take care of a sick dog is not the same as mom but it is not totally different. In the end I had spent 24 hours a day with him trying to get him to eat anything to get better. Going to Arizona to deal with Brian and his families tremendous loss taught me to express myself in ways other than panic. I learned to take the words in my head and put them to paper or write my blog. My grandmother's funeral preparations were very similar to mom's. Maybe they weren't as different as they thought they were.
Now I am left not alone but not the same. I do have times I want to call mom. I want to ask a question even though I may not have followed her advice at least I knew where she stood on the topic. I have just such issues now and I don't know what she would do. I don't know what I want to do. Part of me says nothing. Do nothing. Let things be the way they are and then there is the part that says that may not be fair to to everyone. Some may read this years or days from now and think they know the dilemma but I doubt they do. I am always looking out for the whole. In my book 5 will always =1.
