Certainly I've been thinking about my late mom (Diane), and the grandmother I never met (Elizabeth), and her cousins (names unknown) on the genetic chart, called a pedigree. I've been thinking about other women too. Debby and Angela, two women I knew and admired, both not much older than myself, who died recently of breast cancer. Circles blackened and crossed out.
I thought I had writer's block. For three months (almost) I despaired that the writing gods had gone away and it was officially over. No more. All hope was lost. What I did not see (or more accurately, did not want to see) was that I was avoiding my truth.