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Ian wants me to ride the Griffon at Busch Gardens.
“Mom, you have to face your fears.” But I have faced my fears, many because of him. He made me face my fear of reproducing that which I hated in myself – anxiety, anger, bouts of darkness. He made me face my fear of becoming a parent, which I had a better example of by watching Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, than by observing those who raised me. He made me go into the ocean, where I felt little besides fear, full of creatures which look upon me as I do the centipedes in my bathtub– “you don’t belong here, so I am going to have to kill you now.” And those fears I had already faced – Ending my first marriage, six years in – fraught with disagreements, two people going in opposite directions. I was afraid to leave, afraid of hurting my husband, disappointing our families, friends, not to mention, Jesus. I was prepared to be alone – preferable to the loneliness of an unhappy marriage. Then marrying again – a man with whom I was much better suited, but a possible flight risk at the time. I faced my fears by moving to Richmond, where I knew no one besides the person I came with. I faced my fears by taking jobs for which I had no qualifications, but enough smarts to fake it until I figured it out. I face my fears every day – don’t we all?
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 AuthorI was born in Oswego, NY, "I had always wanted to be a writer, but was impeded by the belief that to be a writer one had to be extraordinary, and I knew I wasn't. By the time I was ready to give up my academic career I had realized that while books are extraordinary, writers themselves are no more or less special than anyone else." The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield  Archives
February 2019
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