Monday, March 24, 2008

My Thoughts, My Feelings, My Actions, My Blog

I do not relate on these pages all that happens in my life. There are some things best left untold. Or at least that is what I believe. It's one thing to want to withhold certain thoughts or certain events because I don't want to tell the world something.

It's another thing entirely to hold back out of a fear of making some of the F&B ("flesh and blood") readers uncomfortable or annoyed or sad or pick-an-emotion. This is my blog. These are my thoughts. These are my feelings. This is what I am experiencing.

I can't self-censor myself anymore. I need to say this. I am very sad that Joanne and her family have left us. I can hardly bring myself to read a pithy post from Steve on their blog or look at the pictures of them roving about Wellington. They are so frickin' far away, and looking at their lives from this distance is causing me too much angst.

I will not get to see Haley blossom into an older child, losing her wildness that I find so damn endearing. Her mannerisms of zaniness have been picked up by Youngest, and when I see him do a Haley walk, I laugh and cry at the same time.

I will not get to see Zoe grow day-by-day out of the awkwardness of tweenyville into the land of teen titans. I will not get to enjoy her and Daughter frolicking here and there and everywhere. I will only see her aging in the aging of my own daughter.

I will not be able to hear Joanne say, several times a day, her trademark "Hey, there." [I wonder if she realizes this is her trademark.] She will not be here to think things through for me before I do or say something senseless. She will not have my back.

So, yeah, I've not written about all that I feel because I don't want to make her sad or frustrated or annoyed or tired of hearing me rant, "What about me?" But that's me. And these are my thoughts. And these are my feelings. And this, my virtual and F&B peeps, is my blog.


I mentioned to Eldest the other night that I had a fairly wide open day Friday. Writer that he is, he wondered if I would perhaps like a wri...