I wrote a little poem for you.

The Birth of Your Story

Avid reader
book lover
writer at heart
had your family
or let that ship pass by
called ‘smart’ from the start
rescued and raised others
done your duty
left when you needed to
stayed too long
in ‘maybe’ and ‘someday.’
One breast less
three kids gone
hubby at the footy
with his new wife
or tombstoned too soon.
Hubby? You always did prefer girls
– not in that way, but mind you…
Said enough goodbyes
to a uterus
a pregnancy
a mother
(don’t get you started on
friends losing fights to this and that).
A woman of letters
you always loved words
something there, you thought
but there was no rent in writing
and what would you write about?
– such an unremarkable life of sacrifice –
and who would care?
Read some good books lately
wanted to travel
thought you would someday
dreamed of more
but not ‘stuff‘ – you’re done with all that.
Pants getting tighter
– that’s what happens over forty –
your heart’s feeling lighter
you linger a little longer
in ‘maybe it’s not too late.’
You put on what you’ve put off
spend what you’ve been saving
for that rainy day
because
it’s time
and you can
and the wait for
whatever it was you were hoping for
is done.

There are only so many days left of this life. Only so many hours. If this poem was written for you, you know what you have to do. I am standing by to help you do it.