Thursday, July 02, 2015

Thursday Thoughts with E.E. Montgomery

Reflection and Rebuilding

In my immediate family there’s been a birth and a death in the same week. The baby is now settling in at home and the funeral is over, and we’re trying to find a new normal.


I’ve been thinking about life and death and how they cycle around each other like electrons around a nucleus. Sometimes atoms fuse with others and become different elements. That’s when everything changes and we have to find a new balance in what remains.

Life this week is very different to what it was a bit more than two weeks ago. The balance has been upset, an electron has disappeared and a new one added but they were different weights, so all the other electrons are spinning madly to find a new centre around which to achieve their balance. We’ve lost a lifetime of experience and memories and caring, and we’ve gained another that’s brand new and ready to discover the world.

So how do we find our new balance? I think dreams play a big part in that. Dreams can take a number of forms. One of them is the dreams we have when we’re asleep; unconscious unravellings that we have little control over.

About three weeks after my father died, I had a dream. Up until that time, I’d been floundering, lurching from one pain-filled day to the next. I had no memories of each day except that I knew I wasn’t coping. I couldn’t stop crying. All my actions and interactions with others were carried out in a soupy fog.

Then the dream happened.

My dad and I used to walk around the neighbourhood sometimes. We’d discuss one neighbour’s grapes, and the cows another neighbour had in their spare lot. We’d inspect gardens and discuss the likely care needed to achieve such perfection. We’d talk about the minutae of life; things that seem irrelevant but have a defined place at certain times.

I don’t remember many of these conversations. Sometimes something happens and a sentence or two that my father said on these walks will pop into my head like a firefly in a thicket, bright and illuminating but gone again in an instant.

It was one of those walks that I dreamed just after my father’s death. The conversation was forgotten by the time I awoke, except for one small part. About half way through our usual route, my father turned off the path. I started to follow him but he stopped me and told me to continue the way we’d been going. He had to go a different way now. I awoke in tears, sobbing, inconsolable. Yet when I finally calmed down, I noticed the calmness went deeper than the surface I’d been trying to present to everyone since Dad’s death. I knew I could live again.

Other types of dreams can sustain life in different ways. Sometimes they come to fruition, sometimes not. I have dreams now for the new baby in the family. I dream of him growing into a caring, thoughtful human being. I’m going to do everything I can to support both him and his parents, in the hope he’ll do just that.

In amongst all that, life goes on. The bits of life not reliant on the lives lost and gained haven’t changed all that much. Those pieces still need input and care while we reflect and rebuild.

When I need to reflect and rebuild, I write. I used to write journals. Now I write books and blogs. My blogs are a direct cleansing of thoughts. My books are a more careful examination and observation of life. They are a germ of an idea, a musing, a thought, translated into a life lived, or begun to be lived, by someone who never existed, but yet might. Some of my stories are real—not the people or the even actions, but the emotions and the endings. Sometimes they’re happy, sometimes they’re sad. Sometimes my stories are a hope for a future, a rising from the ashes, a promise.

All of my stories hold some spark of myself in them—a memory, a wish, a dream—shared now with others.

The Just Life series is all of that. There are real people, real situations, real histories and emotions—all pulled apart and reconfigured into a fictional tale. In the series, you’ll meet Daron who makes poor choices while Rebel waits for him to grow up; you’ll sit beside Rebel as he decides to move on and find his own life; you’ll walk with Mark as he finally lets go of the past and finds his own happy ending; and you’ll watch and wait while Jonathan struggles out of the mire his relationship with Anthony had become, and takes his first steps as a free man with someone to love. None of these people are extraordinary in any way. They’re just people, living their lives the best way they know how. It’s Just Life.


Just Life series
1.      Just His Type
2.      Just Like a Date
3.      Just in Time
4.      Just the Way You Are



Just the Way You Are


After ten years in an abusive relationship and a near-fatal knife wound, Jonathan Watson is finally free. Unused to being able to make even the smallest decision and smothered by family and well-meaning neighbors, he’s floundering in the real world. Jonathan is afraid of falling into another relationship too quickly and realizes he needs time to rediscover who he is before he attaches himself to another man.

He never counted on meeting Ben Urquhart, though. Ben tempts Jonathan to forget everything and take a leap. For Ben, it's love at first sight, and he doesn't want to take it slow. He wants to build a life with Jonathan, free from harm and full of laughter. But before they can take the next step, they must protect Jonathan from his possessive, threatening ex. Jonathan must find the courage to confront him and break the chains of his past before he can be truly free to build a future with Ben.






Just the Way You Are is available from Dreamspinner Press as are all the books in the Just Life Series.



    





E E Montgomery wants the world to be a better place, with equality and acceptance for all. Her philosophy is: We can’t change the world but we can change our small part of it and, in that way, influence the whole. Writing stories that show people finding their own “better place” is part of E E Montgomery’s own small contribution.


Connect with E E Montgomery

Web, blog and free short stories: www.eemontgomery.com
Twitter: @eemontgomery1



2 comments:

  1. Hugs, so sorry for your loss.

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  2. Thank you, Laurie. It's hard losing someone who's been such an integral part of life, but already the happy memories are muting the pain. I'm sure there's be times that are overwhelming but we'll get through those too. The baby is thriving, and gorgeous... and incredibly distracting.

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