Archives for posts with tag: MFA

 It is advisable not to do any walking outside between the hours of ten and two because the ultra violet rays are too strong. But what if you wake up at 9 a.m., don’t have a car, and need to mail a cashier’s check before noon? Exactly. So, I put on sunblock, and a white long-sleeve sheer blouse, grabbed a book and headed to the bank. The bank is a 15 minute walk from my house, but with the heat I felt like I was on a pilgrimage across the Sahara.    One of the best books I have read while getting my MFA was Don’t Let’s Go to  the Dog’s Tonight, by Alexandra Fuller. Her story is set in Africa. She learns from her mother, “If you drink a cup of tea and eat something salty in the middle of the afternoon, you won’t get heat exhaustion.” But, what do you drink in the morning before noon? I tried water and eventually some creative thinking.  I tried not to focus on the heat or the thoughts begging me to turn back. I listened instead to the birds chirping as their wings flapped above me. I listened to the dry leaves being pushed by the wind behind me. I thought  about lines from my favorite books. I focused on my breathing instead of the heat, and I reached my destination faster than usual.  On my walk back home, however, it felt hotter. I didn’t think of any lines from any book, I  didn’t think of tea or of birds. All I could think about was a new car and the feel of air conditioning blowing on my face.

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“Time doesn’t heal.”

I decided to write a blog to share how I make literary sense of things. It is something I have always done privately, but recently more publicly, thanks to Facebook and graduate school. In the past two years, I have read over sixty books and have just completed 145pgs. of my first manuscript. In June of this year, I will complete my requirements to earn my MFA in Creative Nonfiction. In the process of all this reading and writing, I realized that over time, the process has helped to create a salve over a lot of my wounds self-afflicted and otherwise, regarding the loss of my daughter, Divine. Most who know me know that my middle child died at age four from a brain tumor.  On  February 21 of 2012,  ten years had passed. Yet,  I agree with Ann Hood, author, of Comfort when she writes, “Time doesn’t heal.”  Time  nor words can ever heal my heart or resolve my desire to hold my daughter in my arms or marvel at the beautiful young woman she would have become.  Yet, time and words have allowed me to see how it is possible to move on and work to become the best version of myself. Ten years has allowed me to  fully see her legacy in my life and has allowed me to participate in the lives of my other two children who I marvel at each day.  Time can do this.  And the words that I have written about Divine can keep her memory alive and let other people who never met her wish they had.  On the pages of my book, we are together again.  We can both live beyond the time given us on the page. Literature can do this.