A quick bit of writing offers amazing insight into the life of a local talker and newfound scribe.
Here's the word and a nice weekend affirmation . . .
"Since I took charge of my mental health seven months ago, I haven’t thought about dying, not at all. I haven’t worried that every strange feeling is the first sign of a deadly disease. I joked about my hypochondria a lot. But it wasn’t funny. I was so busy worrying about dying that I wasn’t LIVING."
Read more via www.TonysKansasCity.com link . . .
Just Sayin'
My preoccupation with death started when I was five. My siblings and I were staying at my grandparent's house when she died. We had just eaten lunch. She made my favorite, her homemade mac and cheese. I can picture us all at the table. I remember her excusing herself to go rest.
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