(This is posted as a page on my menu. When I read it this a.m. I wondered, does anyone look at the pages? Do you all know why I write? Well, I’m putting it out there again.)
“This is not a letter but my arms around you for a brief moment.” Katherine Mansfield
Writing this blog began with the heartfelt wish that I could snatch the loving thoughts that swirl in my head and send them to the most precious people in my life. It isn’t always easy or appropriate to stop the action of daily living to interject my feelings.
I seldom stop conversation to tell my children and grandchildren what joy I find in hearing them speak. I don’t call them every morning to tell them all that their being in the world is enough to make my day. Blogging is a way of recording that. I needn’t wait for the time when we can sit in a cozy room with the warm glow of shared communication.
And then there’s the bad old history. As much as I love my children, I’m sure they didn’t always know it. I didn’t show it. They didn’t feel it. I couldn’t express it in the right words and ways for them. They couldn’t get it. This is the great parent/child divide, passed down through the generations leaving us sometimes wanting…many times damaged.
My son once flippantly told me, “Sooner or later one must give up all hope of a better yesterday”.
Perhaps it’s true. But perhaps I can smooth the edges of the past with an open heart in the present.
And I have another wish for this blog: that I leave insight into who I am. My parents wrote their thoughts and beliefs. Through those writings, I can glean their feelings. Yet I don’t have the real answers. What gave my mother absolute joy? How did she really feel about life and love as concepts? What was it like for her to be a mother, a daughter, a sister and a wife? How did she feel about being a woman? I’m sure she told me at the time. I probably wasn’t listening. Maybe I would listen now.
And much insight has been passed on to me by the men and women in my life, including my mother. It’s a gift that I value. I know there were times that I didn’t appreciate “advice”. Sometimes I didn’t even want opinions. And I realize that my own advice is often unnecessary and unwelcome. Yet, of course, everyone’s entitled to my opinion. If I hear something that I think is important, or I feel strongly on an issue; I want you to hear it. Once in a while I’m even compelled to do a “Grammy Rant”.
That’s the joy of writing, I guess. I can expound on any subject at any time I choose to spend time with my computer. Anyone and everyone is free to embrace it or ignore it.
And so I am talking to you: my children, my grandchildren, my nieces, my nephews…all my kith and kin…and sometimes, my friends. Know that I love you, that I think of you, and that I’m here.
Whether I’m weeding my garden or gazing at the Sistine Chapel, we continue our conversation in my head. Sometimes it’s a monologue, but usually I’m good at imagining your face while I’m thinking and writing.
Welcome to my life as it congeals on this electronic page.
And btw, let me know what you like and what you hate, Or just say, “Amen”. I love hearing from you in the “Comment” section of each post.
P. S. And now I’ve found another joy…writing letters on request for those of you who may need a little help with ideas, wording or even smoothing out the rough edges of your thoughts. You’ll find several letters in the category, “Form Letters”. If they were a help to one person, they may be helpful to more.
Take what you need from this blog…wording…ideas…a stray paragraph here and there. Be my guest!