I…have been putting this off for so many days….for the same reasons I put off writing for so long. Self-sabotaging thoughts, life events, general laziness, and over-thinking…aka the story of my life. When I finally decided to open this blog, we had just gone on Stay-At-Home orders due to the pandemic now infamously known, as Covid-19 or the Corona virus. It was almost exactly one year and three months since the day my Mother had passed away…and approaching my eleventh anniversary to my husband. Needless to say I was riddled with the incessant urge to finally do something just for me…no more hesitations, no more excuses, no more waiting for the perfect day or song to inspire me! Facing uncertain times, I decided it was now. I needed to get my heart transcribed into words…piece by piece. Today.
Let’s start with a little bit about me and why I love to write. I am the sixth child of Joseph and Constance. And by sixth, I mean my Mom was nearing 40 years old and did not think she could possibly have any more children (in a 1980 world that’s an old Mommy). In fact before getting confirmation, she thought she was sick because she’d inhaled, too, much of the rat poisoning she had laid in my parent’s cozy home of eight at the time! Can we say denial? Ha!! (I love you Mom!) It was not long after, she had to accept the reality of having a brand new baby to care for along with her newly widowed mother, my siblings ranging from 10-16 years old, and office management for my Dad’s bustling business that had just moved into their home. So again, let me reiterate acceptance of the SIXTH child…among all of those responsibilities. In fact just typing this makes me stop, and appreciate her more. Wow.
Moving right along and jumping ahead some years….let’s just say as the youngest my extra-curriculars were not vast! My interests ranged from super-student to gobs of highly imaginative alone time. Now don’t get me wrong! I lived a privileged childhood. Enrolled in private school, a member of the church children’s choir, and dance lessons….I had opportunities for socialization and growth. I just did not play sports or have a huge social life with friends. Well duh! My parents were a bit busy. And only now as a parent of three, myself, do I TRULY get it. I haven’t accomplished half as much, yet, and I still struggle to keep up. But in all my years….I have been able to write and express my feelings. It was through writing I gained confidence, a voice, and a feeling I could do anything with words. Sitting in my room and listening to my favorite music…I’d write papers, journal entries, poems, possibly songs….anything. Words.
Now you are likely wondering my point? While I have been over-analyzing EVERY, SINGLE life decision since the age of 14….I have had it right under my nose. My parents gave me many gifts. Gifts like the love of music, a near obsession and devotion to family, a love of porch swings, dancing until it hurts, laughing until you cry, fighting for your truth, my faith, inclusivity, and always bucking the norm…but the one divine gift that they gave me was to dream…and never stop. At many times in my life, individually and apart, they both have nearly begged me to keep writing. Mostly during those times my cheeks would blush and my eyes roll. However their words, they have stuck. So here I am today, listening to my favorite songs, thinking of them, contemplating my own family’s future…and I decided it’s time to write. Unsure of where this will go, but continuing to hope for clear vision. Dream.