On Wednesday, April 9, 2008, on a hospital bed, in the living room in our house at 1205 N. Mandan St., at about 9:25 P.M., as I held her hand, my wife, my lover and best friend, Joanie Wigen breathed her last, while Bailey and Brandy stood silently by, not knowing what was happening, but knowing that their friend was in trouble.
Every year, at this time, the melancholy associated with that night invades, and won’t let go until I do something, say something or write something. As I read the epilogue again, I thought I need say nothing more, but I will add just a few words.
On this anniversary, I decided to repost the epilogue to the Where The Popsicles Are, to help me escape the melancholy.
This was first posted in February 15, 2014 when I finally finished the first draft of Joanie’s story. It kind of sums up why I wrote what I wrote, and what it meant to me and where I hope it goes in the future.
Where it goes in the future, is still a work in progress as I try to figure out how to marshall the resources necessary to get in some form that will be worthy of consideration for publication. I will keep you posted.