Happy anniversary to me

The first piece I wrote on theProse was published on December 18, 2018. It was a short poem for a challenge that goes to a 404 page now so, it's a mystery. My submission was quite short:

On a precipice

Cradled in gnarly roots,

steep, rocky mountain behind

and below,

I gaze upon brilliant blue.

(https://www.theprose.com/post/247380/on-a-precipice)

I submitted two other pieces on that day as well, but they were written before I discovered theProse.

In December 2018, my husband was just starting to accept the Parkinson's diagnosis he'd received in February, 2017. My son had joined the family business while also delving deeply into a passion he'd developed starting in August 2017: Ironman competitions. I was a year into "retirement" from a 26 year career in foreign language education and building a career in acting. I had also started painting and I was trying to write more. I had been writing for decades (so many notebooks), but I wanted to do so more consistently.

And I really wanted to be read, perhaps even published.

Enter, theProse.

Finding theProse was a godsend for me: for the writing it has encouraged thus enabling me to improve (I think); the reading that has touched and inspired me; the genius I have had the privilege of witnessing myriad times over the years; the joy of being read, understood and appreciated; the prizes and challenges I have won; and, most importantly, the friends I have made (some gone now), who I feel like I know though we have never met (in person).

Nearly five years to the day have passed since that first post. My husband has made it through all the steps of grief for the loss of life as he knew it and works hard to avoid the slippery slope of despair. My son continues to work with his dad and now has a coach and a team with which to train for his Ironman competitons. He also has a fiancée now, having proposed earlier this year (wedding in August 2024).

As for me, I am still writing, a lot more longer prose than poetry. When I get hold of a good topic, I find it hard to stop writing. Still no novel in me yet, though. I have a room full of canvases and one of my paintings is on the wall of my son's home. And I had the lead in my first short film and a national commercial this year.

So, life is good.

And one reason why is because of the community here at theProse.

I am so grateful to have found you.

Love to you all,

Danielle

(Dctezcan)

16 reads

Choices.

I have been walking tirelessly down the street. Towards something that I have known my whole life, that I have dreaded my whole life, and that I have been avoiding for as long as possible. It’s a long kind-of-street, so I had a lot of time to go into the rabbit hole that is my thoughts. I have been mulling over how it came to this point while my feet slowed down. Not just because I didn’t want to reach my destination, but because the soles of my shoes had become so thin that I could feel every little stone.

If I wanted to give into the illusion that I had no control over this outcome, I could argue that my parents paved the way. Their decisions made it possible in the first place for me to go down this path. But that would be too easy. So, to be honest, I decided to comply with what people told me for too long now. My constant fear paralyzed me, just to make me walk for who knows how many Kilometers now. It worked well. Every time I decided against my morals, avoiding conflict and hardship with the same breath as I gave out my constant “Yes, Sir”, I put myself on a path that was the least uncomfortable, at least in that moment. And that’s how it went on, from one just slightly uncomfortable decision to the next. Until this one. 6 hours ago I was feeling afraid, as always, but still safe to a certain degree. I knew that my tasks were limited to simple things; people could always feel that I didn’t trust myself with anything really. But then, all of a sudden, I was the best replacement.

“You have observed the necessary training, right?” - “Yes, Sir.”

“And if I remember correctly your family background fits in with this mission?” - “Yes, Sir.”

I was not lying. I have never been lying, at least not to other people. But just because the facts were correct, didn’t mean that I felt comfortable regarding any of my skills, like I already mentioned.

In this situation though, I doubt that they would have cared. I was supposed to be a diversion; to pull peoples focus onto me as I stumbled through this open area. If I came close enough, I should also attack. But I didn’t want to get close. I didn’t want to decide over other people's lives just because we were at an advantage for once. I didn’t care about any of the fights that the generation before me started. My rambling, defeatist thoughts got interrupted by signals from my team “You’re brilliant, we almost have them in sight. Just a few more meters and we'll make hell rain down on them.” That was it then. The first thing I’ll hold myself accountable for and the last thing I will most likely do. It begins.