Long ago, I read an article from Garrison Keillor (that I’ve probably referenced here before) regarding letter writing. How letters are a gift, and we shouldn’t apologize when we write them (as in, “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. . .”), rather we should just dive in and write.
So here I am. Diving in. Thad ordered his high school class ring on Thursday, which led me to look for some pictures of him when he was young(er) which led me to my blog which led me to wonder when and why I quit writing.
I think I quit writing, honestly, because I am ashamed of myself–of bad decisions, of not being strong enough or self-controlled enough–for being too busy and too tired. The list is long and burdensome, and I know that NOT writing is NOT good. I felt it as I read over my old blog posts. I was recording our life–our history. There are stories there that no one would even remember had I not written about them.
Then, more shame creeps in. What have I missed the past three years by not writing more? Well–that can’t be answered. Much of what has happened has been painful–the suicide of my nephew in 2016, the cancer diagnosis and death of my father-in-law in 2017–huge life events that overwhelm and humble and teach, and exhaust. I don’t even know that I can write about them yet, but I know I need to write. For my family. For me.
So, Victoria is a junior Psychology major at mine and my mom’s alma mater, Harding University. She is as bright and shiny as a new penny. She is happy and busy and learning and watching her grow is my distinct pleasure and honor.
Thad is a junior at Magnolia West, and he growing himself. He is stretching a little over 6’2″ at the moment–in his second year of welding and weight training. He is still my boy, but we have to hug differently now–I have to hug around his middle like he used to hug around mine.
Tony and I celebrated 25 years of marriage in June, and he turned 50 in July. The 25 years of marriage and the 25 years of life with me have been trying to him at times, I know, but we are so blessed and so thankful to have each other and our children–to work at the same school–to have a wonderful church family who loves us so deeply–to have shared the elations and despair of life and to get to climb into the same bed together each night.
Right now I’m at my second job in the gift shop at Camp Allen that I started at the end of February. New car need=new job necessity. I mainly work Friday evenings and Saturdays, although I was here pretty much 30 hours a week over the summer. I love driving into Camp Allen–it’s like taking a huge, deep, cleansing breath. The people with whom I work and the folks I meet are the best part. The discount isn’t bad either.
It’s a Saturday in September. And I wrote today.