Sep. 30, 2008
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Between the Lines, Between the Gaps
I started this blog three years ago. I wrote almost every day. At first, I didn't tell anyone about it because I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, what I wanted to share. I wasn't sure that my friends and family would even understand.
I did tell my husband about it, but he didn't read my blog, and I didn't write anything he didn't already know about me. The first person I did tell died just over a year ago. She encouraged me, told all of her friends about my blog, and was so proud when I became the Senior Editor of HSB.
After I started managing the Porch and other HSB tasks, I didn't have as much time for this blog. After Aunt Annita died, I could hardly look at my blog. It was like I had been writing letters to her and now that she was gone, there was no reason to write a letter to her. Then my grandma died. Then my Aunt Sissie died. Neither one of them read my blog, but the sadness just kept sweeping me. What did I have to say?
Another wonderful Aunt of mine actually keeps a diary. She has probably 20 or so of them, all filled up. She gladly shares them with dear friends and family to read, because it's like a letter to them. There was a time though that she wrote nothing. A long time. While you don't have a clue in her entries before or after, I know that was a time of deep sadness. She wanted to write in her journal, but she couldn't do it without writing in anger, without crying all over the pages, without controlling what she wrote. She holds fast to the old adage, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
Some people think that you should be able to write whatever you want, spill all the beans, expose all the skeletons in the closet. Those who do think that by giving you all the details you will enjoy reading all the more. The fact is, it isn't so. The things I love to read the most are by those who do control their words, who keep control of themselves. It's like scantily dressed women, they believe that by showing more they will receive more attention. They do, but not the attention they are truly craving. Those who dress modestly are in better control of who will look at them, and the type of attention they will receive. It lets the reader know that there is something to read between the lines. Something worth searching for, if you want to take the time.
I realized that I am still sad. I can't replace Aunt Annita. I can't go on and find someone new to take her place because there isn't anyone who can. One day I will probably write more and have more to say again. I might even feel like I am writing a letter to someone else, but just because I'm sad it doesn't mean I'm not getting over things. It doesn't mean I have to quit crying and get on with life. I am getting on with life. It's just totally different then what it used to be. That takes time to get used to.
In the mean time, I will just post now and again. I'm glad that people still read this blog. Thank you! It seems so silly that I should care, but what I write matters to me, it mattered to someone I loved so much. She took the time to get to know me and she could read between the lines and the gaps in the entries.
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Oct. 1, 2008
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What a beautiful post
Oct. 1, 2008
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No worries!
Oct. 7, 2008
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Awww
Oct. 7, 2008
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Untitled Comment
Oct. 7, 2008
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Untitled Comment
Write when you have something you're really wanting to say. Your friends will still be here. :-)