Two days before the MWC deadline, I got cold feet.

I called my writing buddy. “I’m not submitting my ‘Death’ piece. It’s a mess.”

She read the essay. “It’s not a mess. You just need to organize your ideas and cut out the fluff.”

So, I sat up late switching around paragraphs and sentences. I took out 400 words. I tidied the jumble by arranging events chronologically.

I spoke of the trauma of unexpressed grief from a child’s point of view. Of a near-death experience as a parent. And of a conversation with my five-year-old granddaughter, who asked me about death.

I explained — to myself, really — my philosophy of life and death.

I usually write about nature and family. Reading and writing. “Death” was a challenge. I’m glad I took it up.

Because win or lose, I feel victorious already.