Susan LaffertyFirst memory of sand and waves holds fast in the corners of my mind. Living on the island of vacations I experienced. As a child.
There was another beach before that. When I was a toddler. Depicted in family photographs during our sojourn in Thailand.
But Bali reigns in my memory files. Footprints on the beach taking me back.
Hot sun, yellow sand. Volcano in the distance.
Life plans don’t always take shape and move in directions we imagined.
So many things upend our neatly-laid strategies and schedules.
Visa delay or rejection. Medical emergencies. Evacuations and political uncertainties.
Children struggling in new cultures and places. Needing extra help with education.
Sudden changes of co-workers, coming and going.
It feels like setback. Unwanted adjustments.
Picking up a pen. And opening my notebook to a fresh page. I keep writing.
Remembering times I’ve jotted down thoughts in Southeast Asia’s tropical humidity. Hands sticking to the paper. Ink smudging along the way.
Or cities on the subcontinent where I’ve huddled in a blanket. At my desk. On mornings when tile floors and no heat mean cold seeps into the bones.
Regardless, I keep writing.
