I began this blog not only because I love to write, (and my daughter encouraged me), but also because I think there are many of us clamoring to share our experiences, and I certainly am looking forward to hearing them. Bring them on!
This much I know. I learn so much from listening to my friends’ life stories. Some are exciting, some are heart-wrenching, some are crude, and most are…very expressive! And I say, “Thank you for sharing. I would have never seen that perspective without your story.”
THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU!
Unfortunately, I’ve heard the following expression more than once, “Older women are fun to date, but they have too many stories, too much to talk about.” And then there’s the proverbial scenario where the husband turns a deaf ear on the wifie while she shares her thoughts and memories. WHAT? We (and I use the word loosely) share too much?
Now, I can’t say that’s true or false, but I can say that I place value upon my life’s journey; and when I’m meandering down memory lane, I’m assuming that you value my journey, too, because my experiences ARE me.
Having said that, reality rears its ugly head, and frankly, (in the end) our memories are our own. No one sees them as vividly as we do. No one can effectively relive the intensity of our lives.
Simply put and with cliche, we come into this world alone, taking the responsibility to write our own books of life, then packaging all the memories into neat little pockets within our hearts.
We finally depart with just what we put into it. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Those memories better be worth taking. Right?
Which brings me back to the matter of sharing our memories. Sharing is important! Shared memories are the full circle of life.
As a single woman with an empty nest scattered with ‘goods, bads, and indifferences’, I sometimes wish there were moments where I could relive those outstanding experiences with those who were with me…just one more time. Some of you have that opportunity; some of you don’t. What matters is that we have created the memories.
What matters is that our pallets of life provide every color of the rainbow and that we have gratitude for each stroke of the brush. What matters is that we have each other to share with, to empathize with, to help us each catch a glimpse of every tidbit that makes us who we are today.
What truly matters is that we place value upon our memories, upon ourselves. We have much to contribute, much to teach, much to forgive, much to praise, and much to remember.
I feel that for me, it’s my job to learn from others (you) as I artfully create a lifelong collage of love, hurt, joy, happiness, darkness, and ecstasy and all the expressive adjectives and nouns one can use for experiencing life. It’s your job to share, though, to help me see life through your lens, your mindset, your experiences.
With a twinkle in my eye today, I think I’ll bore the hell out of someone and share a story or two, or three, maybe more. Heck! Why not? We might have the best laugh of the day:)
Giddyup, ya’ll, and show some, “Spunk, sass, and soul”!