Definition:
riffing. 1. talking via stream-of-consciousness thinking 2. freeform talk 3. first-derivative talking. I sat down to write you a letter and then picked up the tape ......
I do this riffing thing. Ephemeral thoughts. None of it cohesive enough to remember but I am sometimes astonished at my own brilliance. Then poof, thoughts evaporate, coalesce into something else, another bauble in the imagination, darting like dragonflies in the twilight.
I went out today for the first time since last Wednesday. Not for long. But enough to release me from that helpless invalid feeling. At my age, and so much loss behind me, there's an untold thrill on being this side of the daisies.
I was going to share a picture of my back and butt here but hey, the fact that I nearly gagged when I put up that small mirror and surveyed the damage in the big mirror? I kept thinking: that blackness all over your back could have been your head.. I'll spare you and myself the gory evidence.
I'm working on a non-fiction piece for Canada Writes, in case any of you are interested, there's the link. It's one I wrote years ago and it was published somewhere small but I can't remember where and I'm editing it down from 3,000 words to the 1,500 required. It's a funny (not at the time) account of an absolute weekend-from-hell in Winnipeg. I will share when it's all re-polished and submitted.
And I was reflecting yet again on this time of loss. I so miss my BFF and writing to her every day of the small stuff, you know? And then another friend dies in Ontario, only 63, had survived her first bout of cancer 10 years ago and then was taken to hospital with a bad flu last Wednesday as I was somersaulting down my driveway and subsequently CatScanned and she was riddled. She was dead by Saturday. She was a vibrant, well-travelled woman. And memorable for her distinctive voice and outrageous hair and kindness, she was very kind.
The ranks are thinning, my friends, we need to make the most of what's left of it.
Starting now.
You are so right. I'm glad you were able to get out and about. We were walking on an ice-covered walkway yesterday and I shared the summary of your event with my husband - it could happen to any one of us at any time. I am trying to turn things around here in appreciation of being alive and well. It's slow going but I am making some headway:)
ReplyDeleteUnderstand so much you share.
ReplyDeleteSo sad as 3 special ones in sad condition.
Still iced in
but wonderful friends came and took me
to market.
I have food, heat and water
should not complain.
Concerned over ct scan on Wednesday..
So many losses. I even named 2011 the year of loss. We lost so many good friends that year. Friends whom I often think of and want to reach out and connect with, but cannot. Do so while you can.
ReplyDeleteJust caught up with your blog and news of your fall. That sounded brutal but the fact that you didn't fracture anything in spite of such an impact bodes very well for your bone density. Keep taking the calcium and get well soon! xx
ReplyDeleteA fall happens so quickly, doesn't it? One moment you're upright, the next you're seeing flashing lights. I hope you continue to mend quickly. Don't look in the mirror! And as for making the most of every moment - you seem to do that as a matter of course. What keeps you from continuing to write to your departed friend? I write mental letters to my mother every Sunday and she's been gone for over 30 years. Sometimes I even think she writes back...
ReplyDeleteBut what a way to go; no long, lingering painful death, but a bit of a rumble, into hospital and, puff, gone. I wouldn’t mind that for myself.
ReplyDeleteWatch those icy surfaces, black on black on black is not a good colour combination.
Yes, brilliant. Me too. For snatches only and until the thoughts have gone as seamlessly as they appeared, but all the same, brilliant while they last.
So pleased you were able to escape and breathethe fresh air. Do take care and good luck with all your wording adventures!
ReplyDelete