Wednesday, August 26, 2020

A Mighty Fortress - Launched

The book is out and I just got my copy. There are seventeen authors with stories in this anthology. My story, "I stand at the door" is the 5th story in the anthology. I'm super excited about it.

I'm so excited that I recorded a youtube video about it. 

If you want to get a copy, It's available on Immortal Works or Amazon.

That's all for now. Follow my youtube channel or subscribe to my newsletter if you want to hear about more things happening with my books and stories.

Tuesday, August 4, 2020

Romantic Scene

Picture if you will, a husband and wife in the hospital just after they have had a c-section and are waiting for the baby to come join them from the room where the surgery happened. The nurse is there to help. The husband is trying to do what he can to comfort his wife.

Because of the anesthesia, she is nauseated. The nurse warns them that she needs to keep pressure on the incision if she throws up, so to warn them. This begins to happen. 

The husband and nurse hold a pillow against her tummy. The husband uses one hand to hold the throw-up bag because the wife has to use both hands to prop herself forward in the bed. 

The husband and wife are face to face. He is holding the bag and pillow for her. And inches away from his nose, she throws up into the bag. 

At this tender moment, he whispers, “I love you.”

It happens again. He whispers, “You are so beautiful.”

Things settle down. The nurse cleans the wife up a bit. The husband does as well. 

Then she is nauseated again. The scene repeats with another whisper of affection. When it is finally over, and the nausea passes the husband says, “That was such a romantic moment honey.”

For those of you that don’t know, I’m a writer. So I wanted to share this scene as realistically as possible. I want you to feel like you were there with me moments after the birth of my seventh child. November 11th, 2011. I shared a moment of love and joy with my wife that was unique to me.

This is what I think of when I think of romance. Some may write a romantic scene with two bodies pressing and entwining. Of young hearts beating. Whatever. That is not romance. 

Romance is holding the hand of someone that needs you. Comforting them when all you can do is be there with them. And when you can, whispering to them that no matter what, they are your one true love. 

Monday, November 25, 2019

Never to End Again

I can still remember 
Comings through your door 
Little feet would run to me
And I’d sweep you off the floor

Riding on my shoulders
Or swinging from my arm
Your laughter was infectious 
Your smile kept me warm

As the years marched onward
Into a man you grew.
Always making others smile
And glad that they knew you.

It feels like an interruption
In a conversation just begun
I’m still waiting for what you will say
For we are far from done.

And I know there will come a time
When we continue to speak
And deaths long awkward pause
Ends with the next….

Next smile
Next wink
Next joke
Next nod
Next exasperated sigh
Next inappropriate comment
Next expectant breath
Next embrace
Next words

Never to end again.

--Roy Hayward

My nephew Denny Bates passed away, March 23, 2019. We had been having lunch almost weekly. I sat and discussed politics with him just days before he took his own life. The weeks that followed were strange as I struggled to understand in my heart that we would not be continuing our conversation.

I wrote this poem soon after he passed. But I haven't shared it until today. I kept waiting for a way to make it feel complete. How could I wrap up this thought? How could I give a sense of closure to the reader? But I think it is better this way. Suicide leaves the survivors feeling like things are unfinished. That is still the way I feel.

I've had just a bit of experience with loss and grief. This one was a bit more bitter from the way it happened. I know there was probably no way for me to have predicted what was about to happen. I don't believe that our last conversation was anything but normal.

We had plans. Plans that will never be completed.

Like this poem.