For a long time I decided that I’d finish the re-write of my book at the end of September so I could read all through October. No writing, just preparing my mind for the writing fest of November. But the end of September came and my book wasn’t finished. It took me an extra week. I plunged into reading right away, decided to enjoy October, my month of creative vacation. The reading was great. The running was feeling better and better every day. This year would be the year I’d decorate the whole house for Halloween, a christening of sorts for this new place. But the middle of October slapped me, and I never saw the hand coming.

Yaya’s last Halloween

My mom had gallbladder surgery. A simple procedure. She was home the same day. I was grateful for my month off because I could go to her house every morning and stay with her until it was time for the kids to get home. Baby Hulk slept in her bed with her while I read. The three of us watched and old telenovela that we loved. We talked. I held her hand, thinking how cold it was and wanting her to get better.

Thursday morning, I arrived at her house and she was already up. She had cleaned the kitchen. She wanted to be doing things, like always. She didn’t feel well though. I took her to the doctor who reassured us that she would be okay.

That night, already Friday morning, she passed away.

And today is Halloween, one of her favorite holidays. We won’t have her delicious treats or her laughter as the kids pretend to scare her. The house isn’t decorated. But we’ll celebrate anyway because she loved it.

In October I learned that writing isn’t the most important thing, but it helped me record those things that are vital, that I need to keep on going. The memories of the people I love most. Writing helps put my thoughts in order. To create from scrambled thoughts in my head.

Tomorrow, I’ll start my new story, the one I’ve been planning since the summer. Now that I think about it, the overall story arc, it dawns on me that maybe I’m not up to par with the image of this story I have in my mind. I’ll have to draw from my heart then, and that will hurt. But it will also heal. Words, beautiful words.