When Writing Isn’t Important

Yesterday I saw more of my daughter’s blood than a parent should ever have to see. She was attacked by a dog. I’m thankful that while serious, she is home and recovering. She has stitches over a chunk of her face. She’s very snugly. A little bit ago she was running around chasing bubbles outside, so it’s clear that she’s not devastated and will never recover.

I spent most of the day with her at the hospital. My wife and I took turns standing by her side, wiping up the blood, hugging her…

And today, I’m exhausted. I could write a lengthy blog post about my emotions. I could pen a missive concerning the love of parents. Or maybe I should wax rhapsodic about the tenacity of children.

Or I could just write, because that’s all there is in me.

Some people will advise you to write every day. I’ve not held that for a while. Write regularly, yes, if you want to be an author. Set up a normal way of doing things that works for you.

But some things are more important than writing.

Right now, my daughter is more important. Being with her in the hospital, snuggling her, taking care of the other kids… all that is more important.

So Imma step away from the keyboard for a bit. I’ve got better things to do. Writing will return… but this is more important today.