It's time...

God said several years ago,

"Do this which I ask of you."

I've looked at it.

I've printed the original.

I've begun re-typing it -

            several times...

I've written several versions of the forward.

I've even worked with an interested publisher's editor.

But I haven't done it.

I still feel the spiritual urging to do it. 

I no longer have an interested publisher or editor.

I have several files associated with it.

But it's just been too hard.

 

I cry when I try.

But it's time.

So this month, I am reading it,

my journal entries from that time.

I will shed tears, undoubtedly.

But I will clean that wound, expose it to the air,

and I will begin writing that book

from those entries

of Al's and my journey through cancer and grief.

 

Why today?

Because today is the day that was his first full day

as an in-patient in the hospice facility.

Following a scary and dangerous-to-me night,

our girls and hospice nurse convinced me

that moving him was no longer an option,

it was a necessity for both his sake and mine.

And so the night before,

            at about 7PM,

he left, for the last time, the house where I took him to die

and the transport vehicle took him to the place where he would die

            sixteen days later.

Avoiding the "memories"

hasn't made me forget that -

or any of it.

Why today?

Because I have, in the past,

against my editors wishes and instructions,

given copies of the raw book, still in journal form,

to recently widowed friends who were helped by it.

 

Because my cousin was recently widowed and is struggling -

and the book God has directed me to write isn't there for him.

 

Because another cousin is facing widowhood very soon,

and it isn't there for him.

 

Because it wasn't there for my dearest female friend

when her husband died not quite two years ago.

 

Why today?

Because I am struggling in this 12th January

and think back to that first one

and wish I had realized I wasn't alone

in my thoughts and feelings.

 

Why today?

Because I have been reminded this month

that writing is, for me, a healing balm.

 

Why today?

Because God said so. 

Firmly.