Long, Long, Long

Long, Long, Long

It’s been a VERY long month since I last wrote.

First, The Good News

Today I received the first print of the hardcover edition of The Reluctant Captain! Forgive the bad picture:

It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye

My mother, Myrtle Tefft, passed away on February 21. My mother was an intensely private person, so I’ve only alluded here to the fact that her health was failing. Although it wasn’t a surprise, it was a shock that she went so quickly. Thankfully, she passed away in her sleep.

I owe much of who I am to my mother. My mother was born in 1930 in London, England and grew up during the Blitz. My mother was tenacious (which is the polite way of saying she was stubborn) and never afraid to stand up for herself if she thought she was being treated unfairly. I get those traits from her without a doubt.

Although my mother immigrated to the States in 1958, she kept many traditions from England alive. Until I went to college, I drank tea far more extensively than coffee, starting on tea with large doses of milk and sugar. Every year, my mother made Christmas Pudding and, for my birthday, Steak and Kidney Pudding (Note: For my American friends, a pudding means a steamed cake – in the case of Christmas – or pastry in the case of Steak and Kidney. It is NOT the pudding we eat out of cups). On Sunday dinners, if we had roast beef, we always had Yorkshire Pudding (popovers). We would often play an English pub game called Shove Ha’penny. The board is a slate with several lines engraved on it. You would “shove” English Ha’pennies (half pennies) and try to get them in between a set of two lines. It’s rather like shuffleboard.

With this comes a change for me. For nearly the last year, Mom was either in a hospital or nursing home at distances ranging from 10 to 50 miles. I tried to visit as often as I could (about every other day). As a result, most of my evenings were taken up with travel. Now, I have to adjust to having time and knowing what that really means – my mom is gone. I’m still coming to grips with it. I’ve found ti hard to conecentrate on anything. In fact, this is the most meaningful amount of writing that I’ve done since she passed.

I know that I will make peace with this, be able to move on, and start writing again. My mother would want that. She often asked me how my writing was going when I visited her. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t have time to write because I was visiting her, so I would say, “It’s going,” or some other non-committal answer.

Before I sign off, I want to share one of my favorite pictures of my mother and I. It was taken on Mother’s Day in 2015;

Until next time, Happy Journeys!

Mike

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