Thursday, December 01, 2016
It had been so long, I forgot the URL.
I was surprised to discover I had changed it to a "dot net" address.
I'd like to think I remember doing that, but I really don't.
It had been so long, the domain name expired.
Just yesterday, but still.
I found the email where they asked me to renew it, but I hadn't even opened it.
It was buried, with everything else unread.
I scrolled through my entries that have gotten drastically thinner over the years.
With today's entry, my count for 2016 will be..... one.
It won't take much to beat all of 2015 which topped out at a whopping 5.
I'm a far cry from the 660 posts in 2007 or the 932 posts in 2004.
Did I have that much to say then? Why don't I now?
It's easier when kids are small.
When the days are filled with stories and adventures,
and it's fun to retell the darndest things that have been said,
that become both family legend and blogging fodder.
Still, time marches on, and rightly so. Things aren't supposed to be the same forever.
But December 1, 2016 is a world away from September 21, 2003, when this all began.
I no longer mark the years by lost teeth or school dances,
and while (at least in my family) there are always darndest things being said,
they are much more adult in nature. Some funny. Some serious. Some devastatingly sad.
And as I sit today to write a post, I'm still very aware of one thing:
Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.
Maintaining a balance between public story telling and private life living
is something I take very seriously.
So here we are nearing the end of the year.
It hasn't been kind to a lot of people.
The world is louder than ever. Angrier too.
I don't want to add to the noise, but I don't want to be silent.
And now, maybe more than ever (and maybe this is just for my sanity)
I have to remember and acknowledge and say out loud:
There are good things.
There are good people.
Thank you, Holidailies.
Even on the first day of December in the last month of 2016
when uncertainty seems to be the only thing I can count on,
You're there to remind me that my words don't need to be noise,
And a thoughtful voice still makes a sound that can be heard.
We've done this dance for many years, you and I,
and although I think it's fool's task to recreate the spirit of Blog-posts past, I'm OK with that.
Now isn't then. It's not supposed to be.
I'm ready to accept the challenge of finding my today-voice and writing my today-stories.