Parents

Both my parents are gone now; within a period of five months. Family dynamics are changing. A deeper understanding of who my parents were here on this earth progresses in their absence. Their powerful influence deeply acknowledged as it wanes. Responsibilities related to what their family of six sons will or will not become fall upon a younger set.

An insight into the human dynamic captivates. Honest observations of such events, a sense of understanding, can only make one a better author.

My dad sold me my mother’s Buick Regal after she passed. It needs new tires.

I was driving the Regal shortly after purchase and punched one of my mother’s Catholic stations on the radio. Religious music is uplifting, consoling, but as the interior of the car began to smell more and more like the inside of a Catholic church I had the sense that I was not alone.

Yes, for a month or so I had to readjust the driver’s car seat every time I got into the Regal. My mother did, or rather does have a sense of humor.

We were visiting my dad everyday these last several months. He hung in there so well, we almost forgot he was dying. Reflections on the family take me away at times. Demands of Spring, namely the garden, and work on my garages that I cannot put off any longer have kept me from writing, even posting on my blogs.

Getting back into a schedule will get me back on track. I must prioritize, delegate my time and be rigid with myself.

My cousin recommended a publisher to me at my dad’s funeral. He is an author himself. I was genuinely moved that he came so far to share with us.

So it is either crank out all my work into the proper format this summer and send it all to a publisher, or hit a writer’s conference and plod ever onward into the world of self publishing.

I have a lot of work, not to mention writing to do, to get in order. Pushing ahead quickly on the keyboard you naturally expect there to be some errors and typos as a result. In my case, if you see any errors or typos in my posts or in any other creative endeavors of mine…

It is my mother’s fault.

Thanks for reading.