It's a good thing I don't try to write a book; it would take me years! After a few months of scribbling, I'd take a break of that many months and so on and so forth. It would probably take more than just years; it would take decades! Ergo, no book.
At least no book as in the traditional page after page of writing with "no peechers" as my small grandson says. After all, I am only in my early 60's; there's plenty of time to create something outstanding.
Ah, the arrogance of the early 60's. Still able to do everything with only the odd twinge to remind us that whoa! no longer 40! Still working, still under 5 medications a day, still able to wear those high heeled street shoes. There are losses, though. Whether we want to admit it or not, even now our numbers are lessening. Parents bury their children. Without being disrespectful, it's really really weird to see old people at their (let's face it, not so young at all) child's funeral. It seems such a skewing of the generational flow. It's like watching a row of dominoes fall except they don't because a whole section in the middle gets skipped over. Defying physics, somehow.
I know parents lose children all the time. At a certain age we can all say with heartfelt sincerity, "What a tragedy, such a terrible waste of a young life." When the old, old die, we say with equal sincerity, "It is not a tragedy, sad, yes, but so and so had a long life." It's that middle death that has me stymied. Too old to be tragic, too young to be old,.......... too close to home.
In fact, having reread this blog, I'm going to get in touch with my good friends at Shutterfly and see if I can't do something memorable after all with a minimum of writing and a folder full of peechers.