I stare at the blinking cursor on the computer. It lights up the fact that I have writer’s block. It is only a new feeling to me since December of last year. Before I could pen long essays or blogs fuelled by passion. My word fell through my pen and to the keyboard with ease until my sister had the diagnosis again before Christmas.
With a halt, my passion turned to prayers and fear that our maternal history has found us .Our mom died at 38 years old. My sister was 34 in December. For months I struggled helping her, my kids and losing myself. The pen I used to journal with went missing. It was a friend to me for years. Now when I needed the black and white heavy ballpoint pen it was gone. How could I put to words the pain and how scared I was? I was so stifled I couldn’t breathe. I lost my voice.
It was all I could do to go through the Christmas motions, New Years and being the strong one. While all the while my insides crumbled. I was lost. I ate poor hospital food or provided my family fast dinners. With the lack of ‘me time’ to heal, I didn’t like me anymore. I felt selfish even feeling that.
Time dissolved into positive test results. My sister started not needing me as much. Seeing her move forward and upward encouraged me to focus back to myself. Together we didn’t sweat the small stuff from the outside world. We let go toxic people and their circumstances. It was eye-opening for her and me.
Once again, my sister showed me the warrior she is. I know she is a great example for my girls. You take life’s circumstances, grief and take it to the mattresses. There is no other choice. When I was catching up on housekeeping finally, I looked under my bed and there it was. My precious favourite writing pen gleaming through the dust bunnies. Life became brighter, grammar issues and all.
As my sister grew healthier, so I began to feel ok to put my eye upon myself to write. It became natural again. By not forcing my pen or keyboard, my voice returned.
Thank you readers for your patience and understanding, especially with my grammar mistakes. Without you I may have not returned.
Danielle Christopher 