When the Muse Says ‘Just Do It’
Death is real. It comes without warning. No one escapes it. Soon my body will be a corpse!” ~ A Buddhist passage
When my brother Jimmy died unexpectedly 3 years ago, I wrote his eulogy. My brother Danny died a month later and I wrote a poem describing how removing his breathing tube, IV, and other interventions was like taking Jesus down from the cross so that he could be released from his suffering and be allowed to die.
My brother’s deaths rocked my world to the core. Jimmy’s eulogy and the poem I wrote for Danny became the foundation that my first book was written on. It was as if all the writing I had done before their deaths led to that one point… with a fire set beneath me and the Muse announcing…On your mark, get set, go! There was no time for research or to calculate the story, I just let it dictate itself to me. Each day’s writing was like a journal entry, field notes from the trenches of grief’s frontline, I wrote.
I questioned why I was writing the book; who did I think I was, writing a book, and who would want to read it? This is what I wrote in the introduction called “Down in the Hole:” Since my brother’s deaths, life has had a sharper focus. There are things I can see that I couldn’t see before. If I can describe what I see from inside this hole, will it help others when they are down in one? What place is this? How deep does it go? I want to know. I’ve never been here before. Can I make something constructive out of the powerless feeling of loss? Am I digging my way out, word by word? I’m writing Jim and Dan’s story because after living this story, no other seems worth telling, because what else can I do down here, because there’s nowhere else to go. I’m writing Jim and Dan’s story because I’m proud of their story. I want to shout from the rooftop how irreplaceable they are.
You see, I had no choice but to write the book, and I must have done something right because it’s being used in a death, grief and loss class at Radford University, and many people have contacted me to tell me how much the book has meant to them.
The irony of The Jim and Dan Stories is that I’m a better writer (not to mention a better person) for having written it, but it took writing it to be able to say that.
April 10th, 2005 11:53 am
What a moving story, Colleen – I’ve enjoyed looking round your site, which I found through Michele’s meet and greet!
April 10th, 2005 1:25 pm
I want to shout from the rooftop…I love that line, it speaks volumes. Thank you for sharing.
April 10th, 2005 1:28 pm
Wow. I cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like to lose a sibling, let alone two, and in such close succession. But it’s amazing how the creative act of writing can help you to heal, isn’t it?
I got here via Michele’s meet&greet, but am intrigued to read more of your blog, so will poke around for awhile longer, if that’s OK with you.
April 10th, 2005 7:45 pm
Amazing story. I can relate to going through such a heart wrenching experience only to come out a better person. It’s nice to see that your writing is being used to help others in such a profound way.
April 10th, 2005 7:46 pm
I can’t imagine the kind of grief that must have taken you over after losing two siblings. But, instead of crawling in a hole and staying there you told their stories and now have helped thousands of people. How proud your brothers would be of you!
I’m here via Michele but I’ll be back on my own in the future.
April 11th, 2005 12:26 am
Hi Colleen my dear sister. Your entry today touched me as deeply as it always does when I read about our brothers.
I wrote about your blog entry on my blog “A Particularly Persistent Point of View” today. I called it “Transformation”
Check it out at: http://ben-gal.tripod.com
January 10th, 2007 3:28 am
I was asked to deliver the eulogy for my brother and am so terrified. He has terminal cancer and has only weeks to live. I found your site through many hours of searching and think I have found a link at least to what I need to help me.