I’ve been reading through old journals and writing notebooks – forty years of them. There are far too many entries of He called. He didn’t call., but mostly I feel like Aladdin stepping into the treasure cave: Who writes always to the unknown friend. “It’s gotten so I can’t run anywhere I haven’t been.” (overheard in an AA meeting) Saints in San Juan Chamula wear a mirror around their necks. Never pick up a rock you can’t use.
And, I find a yellowed newspaper clipping which I offer you as a writing prompt. Imagine the writer – what can you guess about how she lived? Imagine those who cared for her. Imagine one of those care-takers reading this letter.
To the Editor, I want to publicly thank all the people who were so kind to me during my battle with cancer and my death. Special thanks to the members of Faith Baptist Indian Church, the County Health Department nurses, Meals on Wheels, the staff of Flagstaff Medical Center skilled nursing facility, the staff at Los Arcos, and most of all to Marian and Carol from Northland Hospice. —Doris
Imagine writing to Doris, an unknown friend.
Set your timer for thirty minutes and write without stopping. Please send us what you write. ms
Share on Your Social Media
