Some of you may remember I live with, and take care of, two disabled women. The three of us have been best friends for over fifty years. I love them both more than words can express, and I know they love me equally. Unfortunately, we are no longer spring chickens (all in our mid-sixties) and the possibility of death is always present.
If you have ever been a caregiver, you understand the stress that comes with it. As long as I can still draw a breath, I will care for them, but what will happen after that? Who will care for them, or if I push myself too hard, who will care for me?
Fortunately, several years ago I found I could use writing as a stress reliever. If you've read any of my stories, especially the shorts, you've seen an emphasis on love and loss. When I can put those emotions down on paper, it helps me deal with them on a personal level.
Normally the two of them can get around pretty well on their own and take care of the basics, but the last several weeks have been tough. The most frail one picked up a nasty virus that left her bed-ridden. My days have been consumed with her care, and today is the first time I've had a chance to write as she slowly improves. It's only a blog post, but hopefully I'll be able to think about my stories once again.
For those who may be interested, I'm working on the second novella in my first series. When I'll get it finished is anyone's guess, but I'll keep plugging along. It'll be done when it's done.
Thanks for reading.