Hello......

....is it me you're looking for??? (*cue Lionel Richie. No need to start sculpting)

*peeking around and waving from behind the wall I've built*

My last post was not supposed to be a pre-hiatus post but that's what it turned out to be. I thought that I was ready to hit the ground running and write, write, write until my fingertips were numb from banging on this keyboard. But as I've recently uttered, "Writing feels like a pretty dress in my closet that I've gained too much weight to wear without being embarrassed."

Taking a break from writing may not have been the wisest choice I've made lately. I should have worked and worked at it until that dress fit like a glove. But there was....is.... sooo much taking up my mindspace. I didn't think I should write that shit. Way too personal. Even for my refuge.

My world was turned upside down on August 3 - the day my mother was admitted into the hospital. I thought when she was out of a coma and subsequently off of ICU, my life would miraculously be turned right side up again - writing, job hunt, move, back on track. Oh how wrong was I! Simply put, this has been my earthquake. While my mother has been released from the hospital, she spent a month in a rehabilitation facility/nursing home, which we affectionately call "Shady Pines" (did I really need a reference link for Shady Pines??? lol). Luckily, Shady Pines was in New York, so I no longer had to travel out of state to see her, tend to her. However, it was still emotionally and physically draining - like tremors after a major earthquake. Add to this the emotional and physical abandonment of my so called immediate family, I'm often amazed that I haven't completely and utterly lost it like wandering the streets disheveled and drug hazed like some alleged "celebrity" caught by the paparazzi. But somehow, some way, I've held it together. I know its prayer. And I have to thank you, my readers, my friends, my fans - even the damned stalkers - for those prayers.

After an earthquake, you'd straighten the paintings on the wall, turn the furniture right side up, sweep up whatever broken glass or unpotted plant, and throw out the trash. Afterwards, everything looks normal like nothing catastrophic ever happened. . Until you discover cracks in the foundation. That's how I look at things these days. Everything I thought I knew, I don't. Well that's not entirely true. For one, writing this, as disconnected as it may read, feels really good - as I suspected it would.

However, my foundation is cracked. Thankfully, by the grace of God, the cracks aren't permanent. And with time, I pray they will be healed. In the meantime, I'm going to make more of an effort to write. I need that dress to fit again.