There are many things to consider writing about. Chatter could trace previously tracked word-lines in this blog, but the dominant shift is the entry into an entirely new space of being. One that reminds from moment-to-moment of the transitory nature of being. Head hurts when thinking why is this, how can this be?
That shift: cancer. After being an outsider to that cruel club, I was provisionally accepted some months back, then given a fully validated membership with attendant privileges: dread, fear, and a shifted understanding how those Others in my life had to feel when they too had been admitted. Littering life’s stage: some fell to a scourge that quickly consumed them, a raging incarnate fire; some have not yet succumbed to the dark coals; some fought and, seemingly, won. Was it water that quenched the flames?
At first, indirect evidence, a number on a lab report. Then biopsy, then initial prognosis, delivered on my birthday: Thanks Doc, for checking my personal data before calling! Aggressive is one operative word. Statistics suddenly loom in mind. What will I die of? Does an answer, or even the imposition of the question even matter?
Glad you’re writing again!