I recently reviewed the poems written during my early years. To my surprise, all poems revealed two constants: one, separateness from others along with an inability to connect, and two, a recurring focus on death.
The constant death focus in my later novels was part of a pattern established when I was young. Perhaps there was an originating incident but I do not remember one. My childhood was generally happy and I have a bubbly, funny personality. Yet my thoughts were always dark, colored by my lack of connection with others.
The darkness I harbored within made me feel guilty, that something was wrong with me. I have carried this inner guilt all my life without being fully conscious of it, evidenced only by some few poems written in my youth and my later books. These poems reveal an evolution of my thoughts about death. Over time, I shifted into death-focus poetical stories accompanied by evolving morals.
Recently, through synchronistic events, I became a witness and caretaker to my aging father-in-law during the last few weeks of his life. He desired to die, to end his suffering and to protect his children. Being familiar and comfortable with the topic of death, I was able to help him accept and understand his feelings.
After his passing, I realized the inner guilt was gone. Nothing was wrong with me. The evolution of my dark focus had revealed its purpose.
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