When I write, I overwrite. I get as many ideas in the manuscript as I can, and trust the editing process will trim what doesn’t serve the story. Case in point, this excerpt that I have now gladly tossed on the floor.
When starting this Substack, I had a vision of stockpiling essays that would release every Friday. That way when life gets in the way, a steady stream of content would continue to flow.
Throughout our journey together, Arlinda taught me many things. She taught me to be more socially aware, to pay attention to my surroundings. The lessons in caregiving stand out the most.
As a White man who grew up affluent, four hours in a hospital pharmacy waiting room felt like punishment for a crime I hadn’t committed. My consternation was barely contained. “Four hours?!”
With a better understanding of Hawaiian culture, I now ask the ti plant for permission before taking from it. A few leaves from this one, a few from the next, not too many.
I’m putting it out there from the get-go: I’m a White, male Gen-Xer immigrant. Arlinda: a Black, female, a Baby Boomer who grew up in Jim Crow Alabama and Cleveland, Ohio.