Monday, December 26, 2016
Check it out… I WROTE THIS - a lot of years ago.
You know, back in the day when I used to write… a lot. Some of it was actually worth reading.
I still write in my head. OK that’s not writing, but I guess it is composing, in a way. A few days before Christmas, I sat and stared at our beautifully decorated tree contemplating how this could be my last Christmas, not because of any specific reason - so don’t get all weird - but just because no one knows what’s going to happen. My dad died Christmas Eve 2009. Pretty sure that before his fall from a ladder, he didn’t think death was just around the corner, at all.
At any rate, the musings that never got written weren’t depressing or dark, but rather filled with gratitude. Some days aren’t exciting or fabulous or filled with anything unusual, but rather are so absolutely ordinary and comfortable, that it’s easy to say, “OK… if I go now, it’ll be OK, because this is a pretty fucking awesome ending to this story.” This was one of those days. I was sitting in a comfy chair in a comfy house looking at our pretty tree and remembering holidays past (good and bad) and just counting my piles of blessings. I felt blessed for having the leisure of just sitting and staring at the tree and blessed for friends and family and blessed for being who I am and where I am and feeling pretty good about who I am.
And then the cat puked on the floor and I had to go clean it up and, well, you know. Just life. All that was OK, too, but it definitely yanked me feet first out of my reverie and completely shot down any chance of sitting down and typing up a blog entry - not that I would have anyway. But maybe.
And then I wished Kristin a Merry Christmas days later and she was like, “hey I miss you and your writing…” and I thought… “I do, too,” and then I wanted to look up when we adopted Tilly, so I thought I’d look to figure out if I’d written about it (I can’t find it if I did… sigh…) and you know… I thought… I should write again.
Always with the excuses of why I can’t or under what conditions I would or… and so screw it. I’m here. I’m writing.
Posted by Liberty at 02:31 PM