I am not good at saying goodbye. The best thing I can muster is “see you later.” Six years ago, I took a leap of faith, sold my house, filled a POD, packed my car, strapped luggage to the roof, turned the radio up, rolled the windows down, pulled out of my Connecticut driveway, crossed the George Washington Bridge and cried through New Jersey. By the time I reached North Carolina, my voice was hoarse from talking to anyone who would listen, not to mention singing off key to Meatloaf, James Taylor, a myriad of old and new favorites, and of course; Country Western. My brave adventure began. Trusting the unknowns would become my daily challenge. On bad days believing could be paralyzing, but on good days nothing short of miraculous. I had lots of family around me, loving, kind and generous, but no friends. In time, that would change. To have friends takes patience. On one of the good days, I went to the library and found a copy of Cape Fear Voices. Kindred spirits. Friends in words.
Writing is a solitary occupation, hobby, and passion. My community of writers was online. In the months after my move, going forward, unknown to me, and to the world, we would all soon share a dependency for staying connected through the magic of the internet. Friendships would be forged through Zoom, texting, Facetime, and long emails. Journal writing became a survival tool and a vital safety net. Manuscripts forgotten in a drawer would see sunlight. Masks once the stuff of hospitals and dentists were a mandatory way of life. Turbulent times. Scary and unpredictable. Some writers found their voice and a measure of comfort in isolation. Later, when masks no longer defined us, our poetry, art, and essays discovered a home on the pages of Cape Fear Voices.
Time had its way with us. Our joint whispers grew louder with the addition of teens, for them and for us our view of life expanded. Creativity has no boundaries. Young writers with old souls wrote with metaphorical pens next to middle aged writers with similar souls. Gerald and Jan offered multi-generational talent, the honor of being published. Humbling. We had an amazing journey. Our collective stories are out there. Thank you.
No long faces. Keep writing. Find your people. Create a village. Spread your sentences. Be grateful.
