It came unexpectedly in November 2019: to blog experiences about my terminal illness, Interstitial Lung Disease with Rheumatoid Arthritis and its corresponding hospice support. The decision left me queasy, bereft of words, uncertain how to proceed: what to share and what to leave out, ever mindful of my readers already following my Heartwhisperings blog, posted on Wednesdays since 2011. But I had to act, knowing the Source of the decision. I was not to worry—a topic for each day would emerge.

So with my words still slippery, I began. Ahead of me yawned the great unknown. To spend time in that realm required discipline, silence, patience, and prayer. A regular there, the perimeters of living fully, each day, with a terminal illness began to emerge—The adventure was getting texturally rich.

With weakness and shortness of breath enervating me, however, the blogs will be less frequent.

To bolster this acceptance, I happened upon Like Shaking Hands with God – a conversation about writing (1999): The transcription of two authors, Kurt Vonnegut and Lee Springer sharing the exigencies of their craft. Their intimacy within the dark realm of the psyche resonates in Vonnegut’s novels of humor and science fiction and in Springer’s memoir, Grand Central Winter – Stories from the Street (1998).

Both writers believe in the redemptive power of literature and urge writers to incorporate significant change in the lives of their characters, given the frailty of the human condition. From such writers, learning is deep.

Both also concur that the best writing teems from the unconscious, when writers have no plan what to write, only the mandate to show up at one’s word processor and listen. The words come. Such has been my experience, as well.

I’m grateful to have blogged this path as long as I have. My transition depends upon it. I will continue …