Did you ever go to the doctor or talk to a friend or speak to a family member and they say, “I have some good news and some bad news?” Which do you want to hear first? I’m the give me the bad news first kind of person. I need to see what I am up against. I can’t smile, be happy and rejoice while this something awful is lurking in the background ready to snatch away my joy. Unfortunately, many times after I’ve heard the bad news I can’t even focus on the good news. The bad news has taken over my psyche, shrouding whatever good may be happening.
So, this is a good news, bad news kind of week. I’ve had one of the worst weeks of my life. I delivered my daughter 1000 miles away for good. The first time I did this in June, it was a “I’m not sure” kind of thing where I had hopes she would change her mind and come back to me. Now, it’s for sure. It was the first time I ever wondered in my life, “Can a person really die of a broken heart?” It seemed to me that I could. I took solace in music that spoke of mother love. Barbara Streisand helped me. One of her songs said “If I could, I would shield you from all the pain.I would protect you. I would guard your innocence. But that part of me I gave you isn’t mine. I watched you grow so I could let you go.” I tried to keep reminding myself that this is what we raise our kids for, to let them make independent decisions. The main thing is that she is happy. I need to be happy for her. Easier said than done. I had three weeks with her to share memories, visit nostalgic sites and bask in her company. I’m so thankful for those three weeks, and all the years before them. They are precious to me. I wouldn’t trade them for a bag of gold.
Now the good news. I had an acceptance this week. It’s surprising with the lack of enthusiasm I have shown to my writing career these last months. My acceptance was from Timeless Tales, a fairy tale ezine. I’ve had a story published there before with the theme of Seven Dancing Princesses. This one was for Baba Yaga. She said it was my best I had submitted there and my darkest. Because I am in a dark place, I find myself writing dark things. It oozes out from my wounds. The pain speaks through me and I heal. Hopefully. Although, I am happy for my acceptance, I find it hard to find the kind of joy I usually feel in my success. I’d trade all my published stories, and books to come for a day with my daughter. I don’t know if that feeling will ever change or if it even should. But I know I need to move forward. These were my daughter’s words. So I will even if moving forward means crawling for a bit.