Comfortably Numb XIV

I buried my father with his parents in September and took a small part of him home with me. My father always wanted to go to Ireland but never made the move to get there, forever lost in the stories of others and dreaming of a place he called home. I decided I would take a little part of him back in the following year...it's the least I could do.

Time seemed to fly after I finally let him go and the fall turned to winter and I was dealt another hard blow...my editor left the agency and I was pushed out and without an agent after a year. I was sick thinking about the year they held my manuscript, the changes they made, the lies they told and the way they handled the entire situation. I had to laugh a little though, all three in the agency had husbands who left them for other women because they couldn't conform to the traditions of marriage...the irony was not lost on me. I wasn't prepared to lie to tell my story, I wasn't prepared to stretch my truth into a fairytale and because of that I was back to square one...or what felt like the beginning...only worse.

Comfortably Numb XIII

I was looking forward to the summer and being able to take my daughter away with me again. I was knee deep in edits requested by my agent and working non-stop with my coach Gay. I knew they would want a complete over haul and I was okay with it as long as it didn't stretch my thruth out of my story. They want glitz and glam...but I can only sprinkle that in, it cannot be the main theme because I wouldn't have enough stories to finish a book. Apparently people dont want to think I am broken, I assure you I am not. Nobody wants to hear the struggles of a woman, they dont matter, just give us sex and glamour. They only want to hear the pretty parts, like the rest doesn't matter. That who I am and how I got here...doesn't matter.

Maybe my book isn't ready to be written, maybe the world isn't ready for my truth...or maybe...they simply don't care and I am just as insignifigant as I always feared...

Comfortably NumbXII

We were well into spring before I recieved confirmation from an uncle that he would allow my father to be buried with their father. This is how it works, whoever signed my grandfather's will has final say in the last resting spot. I never thought he would give me a hard time but I don't ever remember meeting this man so it felt odd asking for a favor. I asked my cousin what our back up plan would be if he refused and I got the same answer as I always do...by day or night, he will rest with his parents. I gave an eyeroll but I know he's not joking, the final resting place is everything to this side of my family. The only request my uncle asked of me was to send him the initial will...I found it when I cleaned out my father's apartment, he was only 12 years old when it was written...on a blank white piece of paper that has become so fragile that unfolding it is causing it to break. I could understand him wanting that paper, it had his and his father's signatures on it, I would bet good money he remembers the exact day he signed it.

I grabbed an envelope and prepared it to be sent, I have walked down memory lane every single day since my father passed and I was happy to allow the same of an uncle I had never met.