My Mom had been fighting cancer since 2007. It metastasized in her lungs last fall. After two sessions of chemo, she called into the hospital because she felt horrible. And then spent several hours on IVs to get her electrolytes in-balance and re-hydrated, she and her oncologist agreed to stop the chemo.
So she focused on quality of life rather than quantity. And focused her energy on self publishing a novel and a slightly fictionalized memoir of the 23 years my family spent living in the Alaskan Bush, from the early 1960s to the early 1980s. I read about 100 pages of it before my life exploded this past summer. I also haven't read her novel. Any of them -- published or unpublished. It's like I am too close to her and them to be objective. And I feel bad about it. But I still haven't read them.
So, they are on my "to read" list. Whenever I stop reading the head-candy crap I've been able to focus on lately. Wonder why that is? Dog died. My Mom's dying. I can hear her gasping for breath right now as I'm writing this.
I'm waiting on my younger sister to come back here to my Mom's cabin tomorrow. I left a message on my older sister's answering machine. Guess I should call my brother-in-law and see if he can get her a message at work. Since I don't have that particular number.
I'm signing off and going to write my mid-afternoon pages, a la the Artist's Way now.
If I can focus on it, that is.
I'm sorry, kiddo. Hang in there. I wish I had something more useful to say, but there's nothing that makes it easier.
ReplyDeleteYep, I have to agree with you there. It's gonna suck rotten eggs....since this is a PG blog, that'll have to do.
ReplyDelete