Writing Syra’s Scribbles IV

Wow.  I haven’t written anything new in a couple of months.  I have been writing though.  I have fifty thousand words in the Syra’s Scribbles IV manuscript.  Around seventy thousand is my goal.  It takes place from 2010 to 2011 and starts when we announce to Esther, Sophia, Basil, Jonah and my mom that I’m pregnant with a new baby.  This week I finished Xenia’s birth story. 

I like to gather the weekly Syra’s Scribbles together into a new book every two to three years.  It’s helpful to have that ten-year perspective when rewriting the stories and for a brief moment I feel connected to both my ten-year younger self and my ten-year older self.  I experience life in a continuum.

We’ve also been sick off and on since before Christmas.  We missed the Christmas service as well as Epiphany.  When we were well enough, we held reader’s services in the living room, but some of those weekends I was sick in bed.  Between the series of isolation, we fit in one Christmas party with the Moore’s, Lyda’s, and Lauro’s for which we listened to Mike read “The Ransom of Red Chief” by O. Henry, sang Christmas carols, ate flank steak with chimichurri sauce, and took turns reading poetry or inspirational paragraphs for the group.  I felt so cultured to be a part of it.

Before we started our latest isolation period, I made it to a funeral.  It was a beautiful Orthodox service during which I had a timeless moment.  So many other funerals came to memory.  Mom was on my mind as we gear up to the anniversary of her death.  I keep thinking this time that year was the last time we went out to a show, the last time we ate cake, the last time she listened to my stories.  My own death was also before me.  I listened to the hymns that will be sung at my funeral and the prayers that will be prayed over me.

I have been thinking about death a lot while writing Syra’s Scribbles IV.  When I wrote Syra’s Scribbles III, life hadn’t changed much in ten years.  All the characters in the book were people in my life.  The daily pressures of childcare and housekeeping were still my constant companions.  This time around two of my daughters are off to college.  There are no more diapers to change.  The children put on their own Band-Aids.  I’m struck by the change in my circle of friends.  Ten years ago, I lived in Albuquerque and had no visions for the wonderful people I’m friends with in Fort Worth.  I didn’t know anything about Texas and wouldn’t have believed that we would move.

This is the first time writing the Syra’s Scribbles Series that some of the people who come to life in the stories are now dead ten years later.  Mom died in 2019.  Her best friend Carolyn has probably died.  Her Christmas card was returned to me this year undeliverable, and her phone is disconnected.  The midwife who delivered Xenia has also passed away.  I find myself keeping details about them in stories though they are unnecessary because their deaths make each memory of them precious.

The man whose funeral I sang at died unexpectedly.  So many people are dying these days.  We’ll hear someone ask for prayers for their friend or mother who has covid.  Then they need prayers when they enter the ICU.  The next email is for prayers for the family in mourning.  It makes me realize that in another ten years, I may not be around to write this Scribble into a book.  You might not be around to read it.

Thank you for reading this right now.  Thank you for caring about me and my family.  Knowing that I have your prayers and kind thoughts means a lot to me.  My memories of you and of our connection are important recorded or not recorded.  May we have more time to have outings and adventures together, more time to encourage each other, more time for repentance and prayer, and God grant us both many years.