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Wednesday, June 19, 2013

For Writers

Today I'm posting an article that originally appeared in Writer's Weekly about two years ago. I wrote it shortly after my mother died and I felt the will to write take leave of me - for a while.

There have been so many deaths this year and at least three of them that I know of were for people too young. Why should an infant die, or a young man of only twenty one years, or a "beautiful man" as the young pastor, only 44, was called at his memorial service? The eternal question, I guess. For you who are writers take note; here's what can happen.


When Your Muse Gets Mugged

Death stops everything. And I don’t mean just in the person who’s died. It stops normal activity for however long it takes those involved to recover. It’s especially hard on the creative mind because like it or not, for those of us who count on imagination to survive, there’s often a high price to pay – like no productivity for months.

My 84 year old mother died recently. In the months before, she had been failing, but my sisters (all five of them) and I planned our first big trip together anyway. We had everything in order, the house rented, the plane tickets, the rental car reserved, restaurants chosen – and then Mom, who had rallied so many times, trumped us all by passing on to her reward. Needless to say I did precious little writing in the time when this all happened and didn’t even want to. Eventually, though, I had to wonder if my muse would ever return to sit on my shoulder after the awful mugging she’d endured.

Many people hammer out their grief in writing. I wrote a poem and a short eulogy piece that, combined with those of other family members, was read at Mom’s funeral service. I discovered that this cathartic manner of writing can lead us down paths we didn’t know were open to us. Writing in the moment can begin the healing process, but it may take a while before you feel you can present that writing to the world. Bear in mind, however, that your personal essay or poem may be the springboard for helping others whose muse seems also to have abandoned them.

Thinking about subject matter, consider first the children. Have you learned anything that might help young people cope with the loss of a close relative or friend? You may even have some tips about children and funerals. Four of my neices and one nephew spoke at Mom’s funeral and they were all under the age of 12 – quite amazing. Magazines devoted to the care and keeping of children may welcome your findings.

Sometimes we’re not as emotionally involved in the grief process but understand the problems others face. These may include funeral planning, wills, memorial services, insurance policies, death certificates, cremation vs. in ground burial and any number of other factors. On this, more practical level, there are also opportunities. A few years ago while attending my brother-in-law's funeral I noticed the large number of teens who were there. His children were young and their friends had come for support. It occurred to me that for some of them this may have been their first funeral so I wrote “How to go to a Funeral,” and sent it to a teen magazine. I covered every aspect from first hearing of the death and what to do and say, proper attire for a funeral, and how to conduct  yourself at the grave side and reception.

In additon, anyone who bears the responsibility of seeing to the guests who come to the home after the service might need some direction. Wouldn’t they welcome some practical ideas on what to serve or how to create a memorial picture board as my nieces did for my Mom, their grandmother? When you feel your muse once again at your side, reward her with some writing from the gut. There are many who need to read what you have to say.
  
A tender word of advise, though, be kind to yourself. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet.  Your readers will understand and then welcome the writing that then comes from an older, wiser you. 




Image: Free Digital Photos

10 comments:

  1. This is wonderful advice, Susan. When my Mom and sister passed away in 2010, I felt like I had the wind knocked out of my sails. It took time, but the muse came back, and I did gain insight and ideas for my writing. Thanks so much for sharing this. :)

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    1. A mom and a sister, Karen. Rough. Mom, Dad and two brothers have gone so far leaving the six sisters and one brother here on earth. God only lets us be miserable for a little while. Thanks for coming over.

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  2. Thank you for writing this as it would be a comfort to those who have lost a loved one and wonder why they can't write anymore. After I lost my hubby, it seemed all my writing was about caregiving, how to help a caregiver, and all that I'd been through. I don't think any of this sold, but it was a healing process for me.

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    1. We all heal at our own pace, but writers have an avenue many don't. I'm glad my words hit home, Marion. Thank you for yours.

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  3. This is some very good advice, Susan. I'm glad that your muse returned, my friend.

    And yes. It's been a hard year here, too, with some very unexpected deaths. Thanks for sharing your wisdom.

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  4. Beautifully written, Susan. And so true. Grief leaves us older and wiser and gives us an understanding we'd never have had without it, despite the unanswered questions we may ponder. Life is made up of love and hardships and we learn that the death of those we love doesn't take that love away... it's just different. I do believe those who have gone are always with us.

    Love your muse!

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    1. Oh, Cindy, I do too! Mom is at my shoulder all the time. I love it that you say, "it's just different." So, so true. Thank you for your wisdom, friend. Hope you are feeling better! Hugs.

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  5. I'm so sorry to read about your mom's passing two years ago, and extend you my belated condolences. I am glad to read that you feel your mom's presence at your side all the time. I bet you she is all smiles when she looks at you, and I hope you feel that warmth.

    Thank you for sharing this piece with us. Blessings to you and yours...

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    1. The death of a parent is always tough. But our grief was shared and therefore bearable. Thank you so much for your kind thoughts, Janette. Blessings back.

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