by Janelle Holden
Today I’m starting over.
Erasing the slate.
Wiping away the past.
I had a dream last night with a friend in it who died several years ago. He’s been on my mind. I miss him and I suppose the word “terribly” is in there somewhere.
I’m old enough now to have had a number of people in my life pass on.
Some from tragic accidents. Others from unexpected illness. Old age was a factor for a few. And fewer still … those with broken hearts.
I think about my parents, who are approaching their 80s and wonder what it must feel like to open up the obituary page, almost weekly, and see someone you’ve literally known for decades, pass on.
They don’t seem to dwell.
My husband, on the other hand, cried at the news of Stephen Hawking’s death last night, moped for David Bowie, and wept for Gregg Allman.
Seems a bit morbid, this topic, but I can’t help but think this is what life is about, the final acceptance of our brevity, and with it, the terrible realization that much of what we spent our time on didn’t matter much, in the end.
It’s like finding out that the thing you held most precious and dear was an illusion.
And that’s why I’m starting over with this blog.
I’ve spent a good portion of my life avoiding writing as a real occupation, and treating it not even like a beloved hobby, and more like a neglected pet.
But, I’ve come to realize, there is no time to waste in life. No time. To waste.
And so now my writing has decided to come into its own, and I don’t even care if I have readers or make a dime from it anymore.
I simply care about the work. The simple pleasure of putting words on paper. Typing on a screen. Seeing something flow.
And that is worth every moment.
Janelle Holden pursues life from her home in rural Montana, where she writes this blog and embarks for various adventures.