The love letter was never written. At least, not on paper. Only in my brain did it exist. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. How much he means to me. What it means to have him in my life. How I feel cherished, and how I’m never alone when he’s with me. So many things changed because he came into my life. I have a sense of stability now. And, when I’m not riddled with self-doubt, a sense of purpose. To show him how important he is. But when it comes time to put pen to paper, the words dry up. And so, all I can do instead, is say, “I love you.” And hope that he understands.
Everything changed when I opened my eyes to the possibilities. As an individual, my own actions may not have a noticeable impact in this world. But when you add my actions to the actions of so many others, together we can make a change. We may believe that we are small. And we are. But many grains of sand make up a beach, just as the actions of many can save a life. Or rescue a sick and injured animal. We should not stop just because we are only one of millions. That is the very reason that we must continue. We must be one of the tiny grains of sand.
What is this thing called writer’s block? It feels like a large wall in my brain, through which no words can escape. And I sit in front of this screen feeling empty. No words come forth from my fingers on the keys. No ideas spark a story. There are no ideas at all. And nothing that I read or try will cause anything but this emptiness, and this wall, which blocks all creativity. The only urge I have is to stare out the window at the leaves blowing in the wind, and to listen to the sounds of traffic in the distance. There is no energy.
This is based on a character in Tanya Huff’s novel, “Fire’s Stone“, published in 1990.
We were happy, the three of us
And father, you loved me well
But mother died, and we were two
And your spirit, with her, did dwell
And so I learned in my young years
To seek elsewhere for guidance
A wizard I’ll be without your love
You’ve trained me with your silence
Now you tell me I must wed
A prince from far away
But I swear as Wizard of the Nine
You’ll never see the day
That I’ll be wed to any man
I’ll live my life alone
I’ll never have some prince’s child
To have them take a throne
And live their life, as I have done
Without a parent’s love
And so I make this vow to you
And to the One above.
There isn’t any way out of this. The only way I can achieve peace of mind, is by one step at a time.
That’s it. No magic formula. And it’s only my effort that can make it happen.
You see, when I was younger, I thought that at some nebulous point in the future, I would be happy. What I didn’t realize, was that whether I am, or not, is totally dependent on me and me alone.
It’s my daily choices that will make a difference. And my daily efforts (or lack thereof). So there it is. The only way to be a happy person is to do it yourself. To borrow a phrase from one of my favorite characters, I need to go forth and make it so.
She’s nineteen-and-a-half years old, and I can still remember her as a kitten.
She has the most beautiful markings: a tortoiseshell, with orange, black and white. One of her favourite tricks was pulling books off the shelf.
Now she’s deaf, and she yowls at the top of her little lungs to announce anything she has accomplished.
That is, she did, until a couple of days ago.
Now she lies in the hallway, making very little noise, and as little effort as possible to move. She doesn’t eat much, although she is still drinking a bit, and using her litter.
She’s still a beautiful girl, and I still love her dearly. And I try to give her love and strength through my thoughts, in the hope that she will rally.
She has been on medication for months now for kidney issues.
Please, little one, feel better. Please stay with us. We love you.