Rewriting Me

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Today, I am filled with gratitude.

Little could I guess how my path would weave, a mere few years ago. At my soul-crushing worst, I was a shell of a human with little thought as to how I could possibly continue on without my husband by my side. His death was also my death. I didn’t want to keep going. Begrudgingly, the breaths that I continued to take, despite myself and my most ardent wishes, breathed new life into me. I left behind an ‘us’ and forged ahead as ‘I’. Again, that had not been my plan. There was little I could do about it, aside from cling to my stubborn tenacity to never fail. I suppose at the time, I had nothing else to do.

Well, that fear of failure kept me getting up every morning for a long time. As much as my children needed me, they were both my salvation and anchor that threatened to drown me. They were the reason to get up in the morning. They were the excuse I needed to eat. And they were part of the tears that fell in my journal pages. Those pages were raw, filled with hurt, pain, anguish, and anger. The more words that were written, the better the flow became though. Not only did I begin to see through the fog, but my prose became more fluid and concise.

Grief was re-writing me.

I am not suggesting that grief can make a writer out of someone. Far from it. But it does break life down into what and whom is truly important. And as it closes a door, it makes you desperate to look around for that window to open. All those words that poured out of me finally found a home online and a window creaked ajar. I couldn’t have dealt with anything larger at the time.

Fast forward to today and I have written for several clients in both short- and long-term contracts. I have a dedicated office, where I craft stories, articles, blog posts and more from the comforts of home. I cannot help, but furiously edit every word I put on the page, but I can see where that has brought my skills up. Every day my writing get a little better.

And if anyone asks, I proudly call myself a writer today.

No one can ever take that away from me. These words that fill my head and spill out are just one mark of that title. Life might change again, in truth it does every day, but a moment in time that stole my life and breath also gave me this. Writing.

Would I have come to this without my grief journey? I will never know. I can never erase those scars, and wouldn’t as they formed the beauty that I carry today. So that threshing was necessary for me.

And you?

What moments made you the person that you are today? We all have them. You can read more of my back story in my Defining Moment that was entered in the Canada Writes “Defining Moments” contest. The contest is open to Canadian residents til February 23. Read the stories, vote for the ones that touch you or you can relate to most, and think about entering your own Defining Moment. The journeys that these people have taken are all amazing and the fact that they have written them proves it. You are too.

For we are all survivors of life and for that, be grateful ~

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8 thoughts on “Rewriting Me”

      1. Katherine, there are several poems about loss in Carry On Dancing that I hope, when you are ready, you’ll read. Especially ‘The Silence and the Sound.’ I feel like your husband is calling me to tell you to read that one. Hope it gives you some comfort. It sounds like your writing has given you much comfort – I know when I lost my dear friend in January, once I could finally get out of bed, writing my novel was what kept me going…

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  1. Amazing Katherine. You are amazing. Your writing is amazing. I hope some day that I too will be able to look back at my loss as a defining moment. Right now it is still just a loss. Well said!

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    1. It might not be seen as a positive defining moment right now Suzanne, but it has changed your life as you knew it. That makes it defining. It took me a long time to find any positives in my loss as well. It wasn’t my choice either. Life hands you what it does and we must deal with it whether we like it or not. You are doing so much and doing better than I felt I was at the same point. Your are a strong woman with lots of support. Hugs to you.

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      1. Thanks Katherine. I don’t feel strong. Like you I get up every day. That’s my biggest feat. I have no young children to spur me on. I have the choice of wallowing in self pity or moving on with my life. Some days it’s easier to wallow but it’s getting easier to get up now too. Thanks for your support. It means a lot to me.

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      2. Hugs. It is a bittersweet road to walk Suzanne. Be strong on the days you can and okay with the days you are not. You need both to heal

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