You can have a deceased person’s Facebook profile memorialized or deleted. However, you must be a legacy contact or a verified immediate relative.
According to the critics, these are the 22 best holiday movies of all time. Read on to get in the holiday spirit.
ODE TO NURSES
WILTING UNDER THE GLARE OF A WAGING WAR,
WEARY FROM TOO MANY WAKING HOURS,
YOU WANDER THROUGH THE HAZY WILDERNESS,
LACK OF REST YOUR “NEW NORMAL”
MASKING YOUR TIRED BODY,
A DISHEVELLED FACE IS SCARED,
YOU PERFORM UNSEEN HEROICS,
BUT YOU DON’T WANT TO BE REVERED,
HEROES PROTECT AND PERFORM UNDER PRESSURE,
SO MUCH FOR SO MANY,
BUY YOU NEVER COMPLAIN,
“IF NOT ME, WHO?”
YOUR PAIN IS SEEN, YOUR RISK IS FELT.
NURSES ARE OUR NEW HEROES
A swiftly failing memory
cast in hues of black and sepia
an 8 MM movie
flickering shadows on a blank screen
caught between imagination and reality,
life becomes a deep dark dream.
And in this fugue mental state
when a mind is fading, waning
thoughts move like sliding doors
on a dirty rusted iron track
getting caught in all the debris
of insignificant memories.
And then there are those days
when the mind is crystal clear
and the lovely music of yesterday
still wafts on the fragrant air
remembering those you hold dear
before in darkness, they slip away.
Author’s Note: This is how I imagine Alzheimer’s to be. My mother had some dementia in her later days, but I am grateful she never forgot me or my husband.
A young birch sways
like a new-born giraffe
its limbs lean out
over wilted grass
and ocher vines bind
a sightless sentry
whose eyes never flinch
but guard eternal.
The silence of winter
stacks on solitary bones
untilMay winds stir
the crowns of trees
flush with suspended
powerless to fly on.
art by rick nilson
Writing is like driving at night in the fog.
You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
– E. L. Doctorow
Today is Day 310 of the 2020 Daily Writing Challenge.
Did you write yesterday?
My year-end countdown has begun, and what a wild ride 2020 has been. The adage says what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. I’m not dead, yet therefore I must be tougher right? The question becomes — How much can I accomplish before we ring in the new year?
It all starts with a well-conceived strategy, and mine includes a master list of 100 activities to help me reach my annual writing goal. It may sound impossible, but many items are almost insignificant and require fewer than 15 minutes to finish. They are micro-actions, minor jobs that, while they are crucial, they are the ones…
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Ideas are as numerous as raindrops on a wild, stormy night. Capturing a decent concept is as elusive as catching lightning in a bottle. Creativity on demand is challenging. Commit to completing your first draft, they say. Count your words, keep pen to the page until you reach your goal. Rinse and repeat: day after day, after day. It is easy, right?
It might be if stringing random words together constituted excellent writing if interesting plots lines materialized from thin air and fascinating characters knocked on your door. We are human, not magicians, so we seek inspiration everywhere. When the lightning strikes, we hold it tight and write late into the night.
When do your ideas flow?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Another day of slow progress. Yesterday added only 366 words to my total. I’m not complaining, I know I will get a break in my schedule in the coming days. Until then, I keep moving forward.
Are you writing for NaNo?
How is Day 3 progressing?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Inspired by the situational prompt –“You go down in a lift that doesn’t stop for hours. When it finally opens, what do you see?”
Boarding the elevator, her fingers anxiously rasped the invitation.
All it gave was a date, time and address, with VIP in gold leaf atop.
Seven others were with her, all dressed to impress, as was she.
Everyone quietly chattered about what this was, where they were going.
No one seemed to know.
The doors closed, the vessel hiccuped, and they were off.
Down, down, down they went.
Hours passed, and the chatter shifted to full-blown conversations of excitement, and concern.
At long last, they slowed, then stopped.
As the doors opened, the woman stepped back.
Peaking over the gentleman’s shoulder to her front, she saw a long, steel ramp, leading to what she could only describe as a gigantic ship. Only, it sat in…
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