Widow’s Walk

(I wrote this in response to a class assignment. It is inspired by a picture by Rob Gonsalves and the journey of a dear friend. )

Widows walk. They walk along the balcony, pacing out the nights. One step after another, chained to a mast that never comes into view. No skips, no hops for the balcony is dangerous. Weeping into the ocean doesn’t count if you are alone.

Widows walk alone, friends and family woefully out of step. They bear the isolation alone, watching the clouds skittle across the night sky, longing, wistfully, for a glimpse of the one who left them behind. They walk, they pace, they shiver and moan. Even among the crows, they are alone.

Widows walk alone into… . They carve out a path made of stone yet soft as sand. Night becomes day becomes night and still they walk their lonely halls of grief. Typhoons, monsoons, tsunamis break over them. The trick, the widows say, is to let them break. Let them rain down on you, absorb the fury and power of nature into yourself because otherwise it will burn you alive. The clouds on the horizon are puffy and white… or are they a sail in the wind… or will they change as they start to come in. Widows walk alone into…

The unknown. Once you are half of a hole (it’s wrong but it fits and oh how that hurts!) how do you become whole while only half of you is there? Once, you were whole all on your own. You didn’t choose to walk this walk, you didn’t ask for this you didn’t want this–never this– game of life that tossed the rules out on you– why did the rook take the queen– you didn’t know you didn’t want you didn’t mean in when you said you only wanted a minute alone youdidntyoudidntyoudidntyoudidnt

But still. Here we are.

Somber as a post.

Knowing.

Widows
Walk
Alone

Copyright 2020 Wynelda Deaver

2nd Half of 2020

So, we are in the second half of 2020. They year i wemt crazy and bought 3 planners. They all sit empty. Locally, there are more Covid cases exploding here than there were in March. But the local school board decided to do all in for the 2020-21 school year. All kids, all the time, unless parents opted for distance learning. No info on how it would work…

2020 is a bitch. If we had a naming contest for the year, I personally would vote for Cruella.

There is so much wrong with this year…. how do we make some good come out of it? Nt necessarily the huge,YouTube worthy videos (although those were great!) But in a personal way, that gives us joy and helps us through to that next day?

Personally, I write cards. I call people. I need that personal connection. My son has stepped up and learned how to cook my favorite eggs (thabk you kind people of redditt!). He is trying to help out, trying on who he will be as an adult.

In my writing, I have been writing literary stories and i miss magic. I’m in the last 2 weeks of the literary class, and i have learned a lot this year. It helped to have something to do instead of going to museums, the beach… all those places I long to be.

What about you? How are you coping with The social distancing? With not being able to go where you want? What sparks of joy have come your way, and unexpected sparkler i nadark night?

#becausewecan: 82 Cards

A lot of things are going on in the world right now, and what we need is inspiration. The docotrs and scientists need inspiration to find a way to navigate us out of this mess. And we need inspiration to help us remain human and connected in a world of social distancing.

Some things happened the weekend of March 20th that inspired me. Some people inspired me. The first was Jennifer Pastiloff. If you dont follow her on Facebook or Instagram, you should. In the face of losing her livlihood, she decided to hang on by asking “How may I serve?” She did one of her classes online for a donation… to help feed others. To buy diapers, food. To help. She could have set it up and done her confrences that way– Zoomed her way into a paycheck. I still think she should consider it. But at this time, when we needed help, we needed to remember that you can always find 5 beautiful things right here and now… she gave me that reminder. That hope.

The other person that inspired me was Jon Bon Jovi. He did a video of the start of the song and asked that the people watching help write the rest. I don’t remember the name of the song, but i do remember thinking that he has already made an anthem for these crazy days. Because We Can. And also Army of One.

Those who know me know that Bon Jovi wrote the soundtrack to my life. At one point I toyed with writing a monologe set to their music. Is it any wonder that when I was looking for inspiration and comfort and the “Hell yes we can do this!” I turned to them, to the band that I grew up beside?

So.

How many have seen the meme about writing cards to seniors in rehab care facilities? On Monday night i got a wild hair and called the one Dad had been in here locally.  They have 82 people there. Writing cards is my super power. I dont just sign my name, I write. 

And then God laughed. I wrote Tuesday. I came home from work Wednesday and crashed (essential employee). I wrote Thursday. Ended up on the phoen a lot Friday, still wrote thouh. I wrote on my breaks. I wrote on my lunch. I wrote on Saturday and on Sunday morning. And at some point, your brain goes to sleep and magic happens and you’re just creating.

I delivered 82 cards on Sunday. All the cards opened with “To My Special Friend” and ended with the note that they are special and they are loved. I signed only with my first name. No phone number, no return address. Because while it would be great to know if the right card got to the right person… I am fighting my need for positive reinforcement.

I did it because I am an #Armyofone, and #becausewecan.

And also because Jen Pastiloff asked “How May I Serve?”

PAN-ick!

So things are getting wild. People hoarding….toilet paper and bottled water? Going to the grocery store has become an olympic event. The problem is, some are not competing, we are just trying to survive.

I am going to ask a favor of you. It’s a big favor, too.

I am sure you can do it, though.

I have faith in you. In us.





Be kind.



Unfortunately it needs to be said. When the police have to be called to protect the employees at a grocery store— we need to remember who we are. We need to thank those poor cashiers and stock persons, not attack them!  We are not the United States of Anger. We are the US. We are US.

Do you remember getting yelled at by the neighborhood grandma to get your butt back home? Those neighborhood grandmas and grandpas need us to step into being neighbors. To being US. To asking if they are ok, if they need food. Keep the social distance, but please check on them. If you are at a store and know they have an endcap by the frozen food with sliced bread, and you see a woman staring at whats left in the bread aisle, trying to figure out how she is going to make it work, open your mouth and tell her. Tell the lady who asks where you got the flat of eggs. Go online and figure out who has toiet paper for your friend with Irritable Bowl Syndrome. Write letters to your friends and family, to strangers. Pick up a phone and call someone.

Be helpful. Be kind.

Be US.

Nano 2019

So I attempted Nano 2019, with provisions.

There are always provisions lol.

It won’t be a novel, because I don’t write long anymore. It will be a collection of short stories. I can do this!

And then I cheated.

But that was ok, because I made up those words and deleted the rewritten story! I was doing this!

And then I got sick.

Call into work for 3 days, my poor kid making me dinner sick. (He’s 13, don’t feel too bad for him lol). It’s still lingering a few weeks later, and it’s kicking my hiney. Nano became no no for me.

So was it was a loss. Or was It? I wrote words…. lots of words that can be cleaned up and sent out. I learned that I work best in the early morning on Saturrday or Sunday, sitting out in mine and rays cave (more on that in a later post). I put my Christmas tree up Halloween night, and having the lights on with Christmas music playing on Pandora and the words just fly.

And I also learned it is entirely possible to finish one story and start another right away. No tears (well maybe a couple, it was a sad story).

Now I just need to get back into writing.

Ta, my lovelies!

Phone call on a lonely road

There are times in your life when the freeway gets closed and you’re trying to figure it out. GPS keeps taking you back to the freeway, or places unknown. The car is passing roads that aren’t on your GPS map and you know if the banjo music starts you are toast.

You can write your own way….

I know. It sounds crazy pants, doesn’t it?

But you can write your own way.

You might not get published. You might self publish and not sell enough to make money. I know those are the dreams, the goals, the reason many park but in chair. But it’s ok to write what you want, what you enjoy. You don’t know where those secret little scribbles that you only share with your very best friends (If them) will take you.

Sometimes those secret scribbles take you in a direction you never knew existed.

Sometimes it’s where you hone your voice, cut your teeth on the truth your soul wants to release into the world. This is art. Our art. Shouldn’t we be writing what brings us joy and makes us giggle or touches our own heart first?

And sometimes…..

You find out that those secret scribbles that you never knew where to send have a place in the world.

So. Go forth and write your own way.

Who knows where it will lead?

Writing Cheerleaders vs. Coach

I have many cheerleaders when it comes to my writing and I adore them. They give me the lift of a bit more confidence when I need it. They have cheered me on when I doubted that I could write a sentence, let alone a coherent story. They have been invaluable in my getting to the point where I’m currently at.

And yet even as I’ve been writing stories that I am so proud of, I haven’t been submitting them. Don’t have time to edit, or find markets, weekend was busy, blah blah blah. There’s a ton of excuses and I’ve used many of them. I don’t know why…

So I called someone who I know doesn’t really put up with bullshit. During the conversation, I told her off the bat I don’t need someone to tell me I’m great, I have that confidence. I need someone who can kick my ass. We talked about what I needed to get done, how I needed to change the conversations with myself, and lots of things. Including making a dream board.

I had a lot of goals for that first weekend. I made not a one of them. So I messaged her, told her that and what my new plan was.

Crickets.

Not a word.

I’m sure she thought I was just going to stay stuck in my ways. I considered it.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I hit each and every one of my goals for the week. Made the dream board, checking in with her, got an “awesome!” Out of her and kept moving forward. My stories are submitted, I’m up to date in class and am working on my next submission.

The cheerleaders are invaluable. I wouldn’t be writing without them.

But I wouldn’t have submitted them if I hadn’t had the courage to ask someone to step into the role of coach. She’s not a writer, probably would never to think to read what I write if it wasn’t by me. But she’s tough enough to hold me accountable and not accept any excuses.

Thank you

Wyndie

Power of Prayer

I believe in the power of prayer. I understand that gut feeling that you need to help a specific person, or for me, send a certain person a card. There have been so many times that I would go through my address book pick a person and send them a card. There have also been so many phone calls, cards and instant messages telling me that they needed it so badly right there and then, that it came at just the right time.

 

Cool. I have a super-power. Spreading sunshine and love through cards.

 

But this is about the power of prayer.

 

I have a customer, and we’re going to call him Smiley. He’s a real Hot Rod of a guy. He lives on the other side of the country from me. We have never met in person, but we have a really good rapport on the phone. He always ends the call with “Be Blessed.” Which makes me smile.

The first time this happened, there was no way he could have known. I had just received a phone call from my sister. She used to reside in Paradise, CA. and at the moment when Smiley called, I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. He called in an order and at the end of it he said “I don’t know why, but I feel I need to pray over you.” And he did.

It gave me comfort. And then something happened at work, and both the computers and telephones were taken out. So i was able to pray constantly for a while… Until I got the phone call that my sister was safe.

The second time he prayed over me, I had just gotten an email from my son’s school. They were on lock down due to a bomb threat. I was beside myself. I couldn’t go, I couldn’t stay. What was going on? Smiley called, he prayed, and then another email came through. It was apparently part of a nationwide hoax. The police were checking everything out, just to be safe.

We’re going to detour here for a moment away from Smiley to one of my card buddies, T. She sent me a Valentine and wrote “I miss your smile.” and my first, the honest, gut reaction was— I miss it too. So I sat down and wrote her a note about it, and set about trying to correct that.

I’ve started making plans with friends, had a magnificent birthday weekend with Linda and our kids. Made plans for something I really really wanted to do in May and bought the tickets!

 

Friday, Smiley called. This was the only thing we talked about. I think he called specifically for this reason. The following is going to be a paraphrase because it was one of those times when the message was so important that the meaning sank into my heart instead of the words being memorized. He told me something to the effect of “you need to let go of all those things that are draining your energy, that are taking away your joy. You were not put on this earth to be miserable, but to be joyful. Your true purpose, your calling, will fill you with joy,”

 

It kind of knocked me for a loop. I have a calling that I’ve been neglecting, one that I enjoy and that brings joy to others. (2 cards went out today, btw.) I’ve been working on my writing and that is a joyful struggle.

But I had been bad. I was sucked back into facebook and the stupid stupid articles that i was reading just to have something to read. And I don’t know why my google page looks like it does, but it isn’t good stuff to read. I went off facebook for a long time and didn’t miss it too much.

 

But you know, I picked up Anne Lamotte’s Almost Everything before Christmas. Started it and put it back down. I am savoring it now, have been reading it enough that I’m almost through the first 5 chapters. The 6th chapter is on writing— it’s one of those I can’t wait so I’m making myself wait kind of things.

 

But also? I’m finding my smile again.

 

All because of a man who believes in the power of prayer, and in sharing his testimony.

 

 

 

It’s been a while

But never fear, I’ve been writing. I’ve been writing many many words.

I started back at WVU (Writers Village University). Now, you may not have heard of WVU, so let me tell you a little bit about it. It is not an accredited university, it’s a peer run site. And there are times when you sign up for a course and no one else does.

And then came the MFA program. It’s a certificate program. You have to not only do your assignments, but also leave feedback for others, and it’s a specific type of feedback. No “great job, bye bye”. And the classes themselves, doing your own work, taking the works of others and internalizing them and applying them….

My God, how I’ve grown.

I had begun to believe that I only wrote light and fluffy. And I was fine with that. Light and fluffy has a place. Even if I sometimes slipped the leash and wrote dark and twisty, sunshine has a place.

Just because someone seems all Pollyanna does not mean that they do not notice the world as it is, or cope with the shadows. I had a problem admitting to those depths in my writing, in shying away from the deep dark and twisty. I have these diametric opposite parts of me, and I wasn’t willing to admit to them. Or try and see how they work together.

I’m ready and willing now.

And with the help of some fabulous facilitators and a group of peers who are ready and willing to help… I’m very close to being there.

Thank you, WVU.