Why I wrote “August Farewell”

About a month after Bill’s death, I found myself becoming very anxious.

Anxious that I would gradually forget details about:

  • those incredible sixteen days between his diagnosis and his death from pancreatic cancer, 
  • conversations that he and I had about our life together, our travels, our friends, our families, our faith,
  • poignant visits of friends and family as they came to say their goodbyes to him,
  • the wonderful assistance of the palliative care doctors, nurses, and homemakers who came to our home daily,
  • his last moments of life.

If I were to forget those details, it felt to me like I would be losing him all over again.

I wanted to keep and treasure those memories, something like a precious photo album in words.

So I started to write. My heart broke open and the story came cascading out.

As I wrote, I was constantly reminded of experiences that we had had together over our thirty-three years as a gay couple. Quite spontaneously, I began integrating vignettes of our long life together into the chronology of those sixteen days.

I wrote almost non-stop for about six weeks.

August Farewell was the result.

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