So going back to work tomorrow, looking forward to it. Sometimes I enjoy work for the fact that it gets my mind off of home stuff and vice versa. Spent a few days in RedNeck Town looking after my Nana. She doesn't know who I am anymore and there are days she doesn't know my parents either. All she knows is I'm the girl who brings her meals in, cleans her soiled bed and helps her up from the toilet if she can't get up. We do puzzles together which involve me putting the pieces she tells me to where she wants them to go. She remembers the cat's name though. Damn cat.
Being back in town gave me a chance to catch up with my neighbors. While Nana was taking a nap I escaped for a bit. My mother dropped her dog, Kassie, off so I took her for a walk. It was good to have a buddy and this Westie/Silky mix had lots of energy to go around. We went for maybe a half hour walk and stopped at the bakery. Kassie got a sugar cookie and I got some cinnamon buns for my Nana, they are her favourite. Headed back home, and made homemade pizza from absolute scratch. Made the dough, which was awesome, made the sauce, can't tolerate bottle stuff, and pepperoni, green pepper, mushrooms and bacon bits. And of course cheese! In grade six our class broke into groups where we made pizza, I learned then. Never too much cheese.
The days there felt very long and tiring, but it was a good sort of tired. Did lots of laundry and cleaned a tons of dishes. I watched her struggle with almost everything and the way she sat comatose even. I half wished if it was going to happen, it would just happen so she wouldn't suffer like this. I was glad Kassie was there. Some things you can only tell to a dog.
Got back to Crazy Town when my dad came home and now I wait for the phone call again. Every time I get a call from home my brain is telling me it's them calling to tell me she's passed on. It's going to be sooner rather then later.
Meals are all prepped and in containers for tomorrow and it's almost time for bed. Geesh when did 9:30 become my bed time? I'm a writer and currently I am writing a book about the life story of a very troubled girl (age 8-15). I sent a section to a friend to get feed back and was told, 'it's a little dark'. Book is a lot dark but it's all about how even when bad things happen you can overcome them and finding the blessings that aren't always evident. She might be a child and having incredible hardships thrown at her, but she's strong and overcomes them in the end, showing if nothing else, life goes on. I guess the question is, how much is too much? I don't like taming down stories and often will let a story go as far as it goes because I feel I am more a median for the story and it tells itself. Issue was this was a 11 year old girl who gets raped. I don't write the actual rape, as I do not write porn, but more or less the after affects of it. Describing the suicidal and homicidal feelings she has inside her as she scrubbing to get clean in the shower. They are not more then thoughts as she's going through her emotions. I didn't sit down and go hmm what to write ... a child getting raped. It's just how the story goes as again it shows everything she can overcome. And yes she does attempt suicide but when she's fifteen. No homicide though. Is it too much? Because I almost feel like taking it out would compromise the story.
Just finished the scene, looking it over. It's intense but I felt it's been done tactfully and brutally honest. Let's face it, this does happen. There is a little blood in the shower scene, but again it's tactfully done. My story does have a warning on the cover though, just to warn readers that there is a little more to the title, 'A loving mother'.
Off to bed, off to bed. Geesh. Word of advice, do not drink a litre of water in two hours, it will take you forever to write a blog post.
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