I’ve been at a couple of deathbeds over the years, visiting family, attempting to comfort or joining in small talk to provide an emotional and mental break. But I’d never been present at the moment of death. This changed on February 21, 2019. Early that evening my wife and I watched my mother take her last breath. We watched as she slipped away—her life, her color––gone within moments.

This week I found myself working on an early draft of the first death scene I’ve written since. This fictional scene is the death of a patriarch, his wife and children all gathered around the bed. The eldest child, a son, arrives last. Conversation, the last words, the last moment.

Yet again, difficult life experience proves valuable when writing fiction. 

On Saturday evening I attended a literary event, a reading. The readers were three established and well-known local/regional authors. The event was held in a wonderful art space with all the amenities. About twelve people attended. It was an interactive and engaging couple of hours.

Earlier this year I attended a reading given by a former Indiana state poet laureate. There were four of us in attendance. The time with this poet was intimate, instructive, and inspiring.

These were both valuable literary events. 

We who went were grateful we did. 

I am in the throes of scheduling post-release reading events. I have a half-dozen on the calendar and ten more in the works. The first will be this coming Sunday, October 13^th, at 3PM at the Danville Public Library, Danville, IN.

Promotion is underway, posters have been designed, printed, and hung. I am preparing opening remarks, the selection I’ll read, the format of the Q&A. Such events are a culmination of work and imagination. And they are all about connecting with readers, sharing our love of story and books, and inspiring our collective creative efforts. For those who attend this event or another I hold later this year, may they be grateful they did.

I have a forty-five minute circuit I like to walk in Danville. The walk is a good workout. Little of the route is flat. Part of it is through Ellis Park. Part takes me under the awnings of the north side of the town square. Much of it is on quiet, sloping, residential streets lined with old homes and mature trees. 

But I’ve a favorite stretch. 

The outbound leg of the walk takes me on a narrow gravel drive through the Danville East Cemetery. I look forward to this stretch. It is a relief. It is there that all the litter swirling in my mind settles and its importance comes into focus. 

I become aware of time again. And of place.

I often think of my late parents. I read the names on the stones as I amble past. I look at dates. One stone is small and has only a name, no year. Sometimes I consider tombstone design and wonder if I could get one shaped like a book. Never do I think about emails, meetings, a talk I need to prep, my upcoming reading schedule. It’s not possible to fixate on such things with this much granite in view.

Everyone’s walk or commute or route to the grocery store should take them through or past a cemetery. I propose that there be reduced speed limits, like School Zones. 

Cemetery Zone 25MPH. Slow down. Take notice.