OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.
A friend died. Another became a widow. We haven’t seen one another since they’d moved continents a few years ago, but we have been in touch, and I owe them so much that they have never been far from my thoughts. There was a moment in my life when everything became so dark, I could hardly breathe. My personal and professional lives lay in ruins around me; hope was a dying ember in the corner of my soul. I was utterly lost. But they helped me find a way out. If it hadn’t been for them, I might have never published another book; I might have not found myself again.
And today, he is no longer with us, and she …
… I remember.
And the tears just keep coming.
I feel numb. I wish I could write about the amazing literary things that happened today, but at the moment I cannot grasp their meaning. All I hope for is that the night is kind to us in these unbearable times.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local. Get vaccinated, please.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”