Writing, Interrupted
The intention is to write every day: to somehow fit the writing in somewhere in my life. The discipline is in forcing myself daily to write something even when I do not feel like it. 
But sometimes even the best laid plans…
It all started about six weeks ago when my husband and I both got a serious bout of the flu; I recovered in five days, but it took him much longer. Three weeks of fever, fatigue and weakness meant not only did I have to do my own stuff but his as well (WOW, he really does A LOT for all of us!)
His first good day was the day of our youngest son’s Holy Communion. Three days after that, said youngest son, Michael, was hospitalized for six days and then home from school for a week recuperating. In addition, there was a death back home of a favorite relative and concern over a family member’s illness. On top of all of that, I am trying to organize our big move from Ireland to Florida in a month’s time. When it rains…
When children are sick they want their mother. And no one else. I slept in the chair-bed (a euphemism at best) at his bedside for five nights. To be honest, I didn’t think of my writing once in the hospital. I couldn’t, such was the state of my mind. When worry and stress take over there is no room for anything else.
Once we were home and the dust settled and everyone was on the mend, I realized that I had just lost six weeks of my writing life. It did not bother me because in the whole scheme of things at the time, there were so many much more important things going on. Looking forward and knowing that I am now behind with our trans-Atlantic move I wonder how much writing will get done in the next month. I am determined to try to write 30 minutes a day, among the ever-growing piles of boxes and kids running through the house.
No matter how disciplined you are or how determined you are to write, sometimes it is not going to happen. Accept it, because life happens.
