Cold Case In Ellyson

It’s an odd feeling for a writer to lose interest in writing. Give me joy, I can write. Give me saddness, I can write. But give me angst, and I’m just speechless. Days after my son’s football injury, he had a seizure in front of my husband and me and passed out. After another trip to the ER, they discovered my 13-year-old had a blood clot. Back in the hospital, blood thinners, nightmares, growth plate damage?, sleeplessness…we’ll it’s enough to make this writer put the pen aside. But I’m back. Some of that angst is leaving my heavy soul. Now it’s just worry. I can live with that.

Watching my 12-year-old take to the field after all this, my anxiety was great. I think his was, too. And when I heard the helmet-to-helmet crack, my knees went weak. But watching my phoenix rise from the ashes with a shake of his head and brushing off grass, well, it was then that I accepted that life does go on.