I’ve been struggling to write the past several weeks. I’m about 20,000 words in on the next book in the Allison Parker Mystery series that I write, but the characters have gone silent on me. No nudge. No urge. No magic. Not sure what’s going on there. Yesterday I re-read what I have written to this point, and I like the story, like the new characters, and wonder where the story is going – yet have no desire to write. So, this morning I thought “why not try an essay?” As soon as that thought came to me, so came the title “A Time to Wait.”
In retrospect, I’ve been doing a lot of waiting in the last year since my husband died. I wasn’t ready to move forward on hardly any level – a reality I am just now understanding. I had accepted his death – he and I knew it was coming and had prepared as best we could – but my life moving forward afterwards was an unknown. I’m basically a big chicken, so adjusting to living alone in the mountains had its challenges. When it’s dark here, it’s really dark. A loaded Glock 19 and my dog assuaged my fears to a degree, but some nights were, and are, still very hard for me. It doesn’t help that I am sensitive to those across the veil, and at times can feel “others” there with me.
I’m 72 now, and while the number sounds “old” I don’t feel old. As the one-year anniversary of my husband’s death approaches I wonder if there will be another love for me. I hope so, but I know I can’t go looking for it. When I think about that part of my life, I hear the words “a time to wait.” I am impatient, but I know when I hear a message that I need to pay attention to. (Dangling participle be damned).
Fall is my favorite time of year. A time when nature rests and goes quiet for the winter months. Is this also a message for me? To enjoy the vibrant colors that Fall brings, but to know that Winter is a time to wait, to wait for renewal and new life.
I wish I had a crystal ball.