Maybe it's not something I should admit to, this fact that I can pull entirely away from my writing.
It's just that life happens so heavily at times, and how can I devote myself to fiction when reality is so big and in-my-face significant?
It happened that way last year when my dad was diagnosed with stage IV bone cancer. When we were first reeling from the prognosis, and watching through his (short-lived) treatments, and then struggling through the two-month decline before he passed away. Two months, that was all we had him after the doctor told us that day, because he'd already had multiple sclerosis for twenty years, and his body didn't have a chance.
|photo found at hubpages|