I haven't blogged since Macy was born practically. I have been busy, and I don't think anyone actually looks at my blog anyway so what's the point? That's what I've been asking myself. I'm never going to be a big blogger who has 10,000 people look at each one of her inspiring blog posts, but today I don't care if anyone reads this. At church they tell us that we should keep a journal, and maybe that's what this is, maybe this will be my place I go so I don't tear my husbands head off on a daily basis. This is where I can be dramatic and slightly philosophical. You know when you open some really old journal that someone kept a hundred years ago and you read all their darkest fear and biggest dreams and every other tiny thing they had to say, how did it not bother them that no one would ever see that, except that you're reading it so that's someone, right? Do you know know what I mean? Maybe you don't haha. Well one dream I have that I have never shared before is this: I want to write something, something that will be seen and read and loved, and I want it to inspire someone or at least evoke some emotions that will make them sit there when they are finished reading. They sit there because they don't know what to do next. I don't know what, maybe a novel or a short story, I don't know what, but I just want to make other people feel, feel the way other have made me after reading something moving.
Maybe my children will read this someday. Maybe I'll have passed on, and they will find my blog or a printed version of it and they will learn something new about their mommy. They'll realize that I wasn't just the lady who kissed their boo-boos and made them breakfast, and rocked them to sleep at night. I was a person who loved to make others feel.
Well now that this had turned slightly depressing, I just want to say that writing or typing makes me feel whole. Whole in a way that only the best things in life bring. And that's it.
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