I’ve been waiting all day to write. I got the girls to bed and my husband was at church volunteering at the fish fry so I had my evening free to write. The chapter I have been dying to write all day is about the death of a person. I’ve been waiting all day to write about death. Is that morbid or what? And I’m finding it so sad to write this part of my book. When I first thought of the book idea, I was planning on just mentioning the person’s death. But the more I thought about my book, I realized I had to write about the death. All week it has been eating at me and I knew I needed to write it. To clear it from my mind.
I remember once reading an article about how J.K. Rowling cried when she killed one of the beloved characters in one of the Harry Potter books. I’m not crying about writing this death though. Mainly because I don’t feel connected with this character. Since this is just my first book, this particular character never had a chance to grow and bloom and become loved. So his death is just a memory.
But writing about it made me think, we all are memories to someone. We all are connected to each other, in some rhythm or reason.
We all matter. We all have touched someone’s life in some way.
Even on your worse day, you can know that someone cares about you. You are loved.