A sad time, then a happy time

Today was my “day off” from the new job, so I decided to make it a “day off” from working on my books, as well. I have not had one of those days for some time; I’ve been so busy working on the books. So it was nice to just step away from it for the day and just do other stuff. 

And while I may have stopped working on the books for the day, I did not stop writing. After I got a Starbucks, I opened my writing notebook and wrote down a few poems. After I finished the poems, I sat there drinking my coffee, lost in thought. I thought about the friend I’d seen on my way to getting the coffee, feeling bad for her because she’d told me her husband of 40+ years recently died and she’s really been having a hard time with it. I thought of how I told her “just take it one day at a time” and I just felt sad for her. But I was glad I was able to see her and offer some comfort. Then I started doing some people watching. I happened to notice this one person who looked like a man my mom once knew, and of course, that got me to thinking about my mom.

It’s been over a year since my mom has passed away. It has not been easy. I still miss her so much. It may have been over a year, but it’s still hard. Then I started to wonder if I was being selfish wishing she was still here, because she is in a better place now. She is happy, healthy, young, free, and able to run again. She’s able to even TALK again. And she’s pain-free. I told myself ALL of these things but they did not make me feel any better. I just started to feel sad. Then I made myself STOP thinking about her – because if I thought about her too much, I’d start to cry. And I didn’t want to cry in front of these people.

So I distracted myself with more people-watching and texting. Then I went to buy some dog food. I was able to hold it together until I got to the car. That was when the tears came. After I cried a little, I got myself together again, started up the car and went to run a couple of other errands before I picked Jesse up from school.

After I got home, there was something waiting for me that made me forget the tears, the sadness and the pain. There was something there that got me excited, made me happy and made me smile: The proof copy of my new poetry book, Touched by Fire. Hooray! It arrived today!

Here is a picture of me holding the book:

That's me with the print proof of my new poetry book, Touched by Fire! For the record, my hair is up in a ponytail.

The proof copy looked great and I got online to approve it. I shared about it on Facebook and I also showed it to the kids. When the print goes live on Amazon, I’ll share more about it on my writing blog.

So today, there was a sad time and then a happy time. I am grateful the happy time is something I can end this day with.

Meeting W.S. Merwin

Jennifer and I had plans to go to the library today. As we sat at the dinner table last night, with hubby reading the day's Register-Guard and I reading this week's Eugene Weekly, I was delighted to find out that a very special guest was going to be at the library today. I started reading the article about W.S. Merwin and his thoughts on creating poems, thinking that it was there for his newest book, but I learned he was being written up in the EW because he was giving a reading at the library! On the same day we planned to go there! Very cool!

As I told Jennifer about this very famous poet who we could meet at the library (he has won two Pulitzers, after all), I started to get excited about this taking place. How neat to meet a poet whose work I have long admired! I have met other well-published poets before, but this particular poet is one I have read several times and was anxious about meeting.

Today, however, things didn't start out so good. I woke up with excruciating pain in my hip. It hurt to move around and bend over and the pain eventually moved down into my foot. The pain was so bad, I couldn't even stand on both feet. We ended up missing church because it just hurt too much for me to move around. I had planned to call the library to see if they had an ASL interpreter or a notetaker available to assist me during the reading, just to let me know if he was saying anything else besides reading a poem, but I was not able to find the chance to do that. When the time came for me to leave, I was ready to call it off because I didn't have an interpreter or notetaker. How on earth could I "attend" a reading without one? What if he wanted to say something to me when I met him, and I couldn't understand him?? I so wanted the chance to talk with him.

Well, maybe I was ready to give up this opportunity, but Jennifer and my hubby weren't. They knew how much it meant to me to go and even to meet him. Jennifer said, "You always tell me that if I really want to do something, then just do it." I kept thinking, this is different. I don't have a notetaker! Still, they encouraged me to go. I even started to feel depressed just thinking I would miss out on this, because I knew an opportunity like this might not come up again, so it was not very hard for them to convince me to go even if going meant I'd have communication problems.

When we got to the library, the parking lot was PACKED. There was nowhere to park at all. I got nervous because I wasn't sure I'd have change to park at a parking meter but I ended up digging a quarter and a dime out of my wallet, which gave us enough time to walk to a liquor store and get change for a dollar. That settled, we walked to the library and followed the signs advertising the reading. When we got to the second floor, I started to wonder how I might find where it was.

That wasn't very difficult. All I had to do was find the crowd. And what a crowd it was! One area of the second floor was filled with people sitting and standing as they listened. We moved to an area where I could at least see him read (hey, if I can't hear him, I'd like to at least see him!) then Jen sat down to draw in her notebook as I stood there and watched. Eventually, she stopped drawing and started listening, too. He was too far away for me to lipread so I just observed the reading and the audience. It looked like he paused between reading poems from his book and I noticed some people in the crowd smiling, laughing and nodding their heads. I really wondered what he was saying. I watched people listening to him read. Some of them sat with their eyes closed, losing themselves in his words, and some just sat with bowed heads as they listened. I wondered why they didn't look at the poet as he read his poems, though many people did look at him.

As Mr. Merwin read his poems, I noticed how he rarely looked up. He seemed to have a sort of liveliness to his mood as he read the poems, moving his hand about in the air and sometimes even leaning forward. Later, as we moved closer, I noticed he was wearing glasses as he read (he wasn't wearing them in the EW picture). I also noticed how he rarely paused to drink water and I wondered if his throat was dry. He read for over an hour, selecting poems from what must be his newest book as well as poems he drew from a file folder and poems he had in what appeared to be a bound manuscript. I thought, that's a great idea! Include new and forthcoming material at a reading. I'll have to remember that.

After the reading, everyone gave him a standing ovation. People clapped for a long time and I smiled, thankful that everybody was there to show him what a great poet he is and how much everyone loves his work. He deserved that standing ovation!

Because we were running out of time with the parking meter, Jennifer and I hurried to where we could meet him. He mostly talked with Jennifer and he seemed so captivated by what she had to say. I thought it was so cute how he was so taken with her and really focused his attention on her. I also got to talk with him, shaking his hand and telling him my name, telling him that it was good to meet him and that I am a big fan of his work. Afterward, Jennifer got his autograph in her notebook (since we didn't get to grab one of his books to sign for us) and we were both beaming as we left the library. We thought that was an incredible experience. We just met W.S. Merwin! That was awesome and so very, very worth showing up for.

As we went to get lunch, I asked Jennifer what she talked about with him. She said she told him I'm a huge fan of his poetry, that I'm a poet, too, and she mentioned my poetry book coming out soon. She told him the title of the book and he said he "might be interested" in reading it. As she told me all this, I felt a little frustrated. Sure I was happy she plugged my book, but I wanted her to be able to say something about herself, too. So I asked, "Did you tell him anything else?"

She thought for a minute then she said, "I told him about my poem."

I smiled, a wave of relief flooding through me. "That's good. What else?"

"I told him I write poetry, too, and he said keep it up."

Yay! I'm glad he told her that! Let's hope those words have a greater lasting impression on my young poet than the experience of meeting him does.

Breast cancer survivor poetry

The act of writing poetry can have an enormously profound sense of healing and empowerment. For some, it is the best way, maybe even the only way, for them to cope with the struggles they face in life.

For a breast cancer fighter and/or survivor, writing poetry can have an extra special bonus. Not only is the writing of poetry itself good for their spirit, but it it also an inspiration for others who read their words.

Here are some links to where you can find poems written by breast cancer survivors:

Pink Ribbon Poetry

Breast Cancer Poetry

Breast Cancer DIY Poetry

Breast Cancer poems

There are also books of poetry related to breast cancer:

Her Soul beneath the Bone: WOMEN'S POETRY ON BREAST CANCER

Smiling Thru the Tears: A Cancer Survivor's Odyssey by Pamela deLeon-Lewis

The Cancer Poetry Project: Poems by Cancer Patients and Those Who Love Them

Fighting My Way Through Breast Cancer With Poetry by Diana Ballinger

Valentine's Day poem

The following is a Valentine's Day poem my daughter wrote:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Candy is sweet.
Not as sweet as you!

--Written by Jennifer Wilson, age 7

Happy Valentine's Day!