If you’ve followed my writing journey, you may have noticed I haven’t written a blog for “I Knew Men” in many months. Last spring, I was on a roll with promoting my novel. Readers were purchasing copies, I was lining up book signings, placing social media ads … the feedback I received was very positive. I felt motivated to finish editing the “I Knew Men” sequel, “I Knew Men More” and pursue its publication.
Then, in early June, the rug was pulled from under me. Through my “The Story of I Knew Men” page on Facebook, I was hacked. My fault – I fell for a scam and clicked a link. That was all it took. Meta sent me a threatening message and followed up by disabling my FB account. Twenty years of Susan Jonason – gone, as if I never existed. All of my photos, memories, videos, business postings, personal stories – everything. Gone. It was depressing, heartbreaking, frustrating.
WHO THE HECK IS SIDDY JONASON?
Thankfully, I had set up a side account a few years back when I was taking a FB fast. A friend suggested that an account created just for my business would keep me going while keeping me from distractedly scrolling and wasting productive time — the danger of using social media for business. I created an account using my childhood nickname, Siddy, and when Susan vanished, Siddy had me connected to enough people to slowly rebuild my FB following. I still have a long way to go, but at least I am hobbling forward.
LITTLE DID I KNOW
Just as I was coming up for air on FB, excited for a book signing at the Camden Public Library on June 18, my mom became sick. She was so weak she could hardly stand, and she waited for the day of my book signing to have me take her to the hospital (she also lives in Camden, and didn’t want me to have to make an extra trip). Long story short: after a 5 day hospital stay, she went home, and on June 25, had a massive stroke. She died in my arms at a hospice facility on July 6.
Everything related to “I Knew Men” came to a halt. Everything in my life changed, forever.
A CARDIGAN HUG
So here I am, 130 days since losing my mom. This morning, it was chilly in my home. I looked at a trash bag stashed on top of a box of Mom’s belongings, full of things I haven’t decided what to do with yet. I opened it. Inside were some of Mom’s winter tops I saved from her bureau. There, on top, was a button down cardigan in a favorite shade of blue. I held it to my nose. Mom.
I remembered in my story, after the tragedy occurs, a pillow case provides a reaction much the same way. I am experiencing firsthand what I wrote about. Wearing her cozy sweater and smelling Mom’s soapy essence, combined with the familiar scents of a home that is no more … I am wrapped in a hug. I know this won’t last long – the smells of my home, and of me, will ultimately wear away this beautiful presence.
But for now, I’m with Mom. And I know if she were here, she’d say, “finish writing your story.”
Yes, Mom.