I haven’t written on my WIP in two weeks and barely managed to keep my blog going.
So, if I’ve been too slow to respond, I apologize.
Here at Jean’s Writing, I rarely write about my personal life. This is a place to share about my writing experience. To write what I’m learning as I struggle with stories, books, and articles. I like to keep the real world and my make-believe world separate. Let’s face it, make-believe is so much more fun.
However, too often the reality of life raises an ugly head and we must deal. What happens then? What happens when we realize there are more important things in life than characters in a story? Like real life, real people with real life and death problems.
Today I’m going to step out of my comfort zone and write about something very real and personal.
My 9-year-old grandson, Dylan.
Excuse me 9 and 3/4. Dylan would be offended if I forgot the 3/4 of which he is so proud.
Two weeks ago my grandson was hit by a car.
He’s recovering nicely now. We were very fortunate. Nothing broken, lots of scrapes and bruises, and a severe concussion. Considering the shattered windshield of the car, his mangled bike and broken helmet he was one lucky little boy.
Dylan landed on the road with his helmet in three pieces. Emergency personnel and doctors repeated over and over, that broken helmet saved his life.
One doctor quite shaken, held up the pieces, and said, “this would’ve been his head. Good thing you wore your helmet.”
Dylan still very confused and in a lot of pain, wiped tears from his eyes and said, “I always wear my helmet, you have to.”
You see, it’s a rule in our family. Everyone wears a helmet, grandparents, parents, and kids alike. If you want to ride a bike, you wear a helmet or else you walk. And we didn’t wait until they were riding two-wheelers. No, it started when they were on tiny-trikes.
I shared what happened with several of my friends and I received some of the oddest comments. “My kids/grandkids refuse to wear helmets.” “They don’t like helmets.” “They think helmets aren’t cool.” Those excuses are just that, excuses.
We were so lucky that in our family a helmet is more important that shoes. I’ve watched our kids ride in flip-flops, but they didn’t forget a helmet.
Be prepared. Accidents happen when you least expect.
A child that weighs 80 pounds has little chance against a car that weighs over 3,000 pounds. Was the driver distracted? Probably. Was he driving too fast for the small residential street? Possibly. My daughter hasn’t been ready to read the police report. All we know for sure is that Dylan was hit from behind. He didn’t see the car.
Something made of foam and plastic saved my grandson!
Now it’s time for me to get back to my make-believe world. To bring back my muse and my characters. But I must be honest. I’m finding it hard to get back in the writing groove.
This past year has been a bit of a roller coaster ride ending with a big jolt that has left me shaken. But now that my heart has slid from my throat back to its correct place in my body how do I return to writing about things of less importance?
How did you return to your make-believe world after dealing with something too real?
How did you get back your writing groove?
Any suggestions? Anyone?
PS: Summer is almost here, please wear helmets!
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