Writing isn't just for sharing; it's about processing, interpreting, filtering. It's about understanding, or attempting to understand, or admitting you don't have a clue.

I haven't been writing so much lately. But I've been thinking. Thinking about life, and memories, and words, and writing. I miss it. I want to do more of it. I need to make more time in my life for things.

When we're young, we do things because we enjoy them. There doesn't have to be a purpose. I can write some words because they occur to me but nobody ever has to read them. Then, somewhere along the line, we get busy, and we prioritize, and everything has to contribute to an outcome. Why write the words if they're not going to be published, mailed to a friend, posted on a blog? Why write for the sheer enjoyment of writing?

So I'm compromising here, but at least I'm writing. And realizing I need to do so.

My neighbor came by the other day with a severely black eye. Turns out she had woken in the middle of the night and fallen down the stairs. Her husband heard the noise, got up and helped her back into bed. Where she remained for five days, unconscious. When she finally regained consciousness, she had lost 25 pounds and gained a hugely swollen face.

What's important to note is that she remembers none of this.

What's next important to note is that neither a doctor nor ambulance was ever called. Apparently they had just been dropped by their health insurance company, and he was worried about the cost. Either that, or the way it would look, his wife looking battered and unconscious with him making the call.

Whichever reason, I am aghast. I do not know how people live like this. I do not at all understand what goes through their minds. How one can watch his life partner unconscious and not be beside himself with worry, trying to do everything medically possible, no matter how necessary or not. And how the other can look at her husband upon awakening and know he did nothing.

Writing isn't just for sharing; it's about processing, interpreting, filtering. It's about understanding, or attempting to understand, or admitting you don't have a clue.

So yes, I'll be writing more. Some of it you'll read; some of it nobody will. And both are all right. | Laura Hamlett

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