This Is My Story - This Is My Song!

I listened to a song today and as picks and tips of fingers brushed strings a melody and words touched my heart. Most music lovers love the song that takes them away from what they are doing right then - only to take them to a place of music and rhyme. A song that tells a story about the life you want to live, the place they want to be, and the love you want to have. However, we may have all those things, and if so these voices and instruments have a unique way of bringing light to things that may be in our very own back yards.

In an effort to bring myself out of shells and open doors that I have never touched the knobs of… I started this blog. Trying to bring my love of words to a place that could only be theirs and mine. A place to connect all the people that I thank the Lord for. The people that are and always will be in my heart, where ever they are. A blend pretty words about pretty people. How can I do that? To take a deep breath and act as if this key board in my piano and attempt to play a song that is mine.

A song about thankfulness and experience. A song about rose colored glasses that become less and less blurry as the days pass by. A song that I can only write - because it's mine. I didn't know that this would bring so much to my table. A smile comes to my face as my cup runs over.

If I knew the tunes to every song I would try to harmonize, pull up a stool and sing along like my Dad and his buddies - a million years ago in our living room on Rosedale Lane. If I have the time I would like to tell you how my Nannie laughed - a song that was truly a blessing to hear. I think I would try to touch the notes that would remind you of all the times playing cars in our living room on Saturday mornings when Mom mopped the floors. Who knew what a world she could create by moving four ladder back chairs into the living room. Or a melody about cinnamon rolls, sofas, and my sister and me watching The Smurfs? How can I explain the dignity in my Great Aunt Ami's hum, while watering African Violets with a Dixie cup? How do I do that? And maybe I just did.

I turn around to look but don't go back. I thumb through pages and most of the time the stories remind me of my family and friends, and I wonder if I should continue to share that. Should I only talk about those people, places and things that I love? Or a better question might be, how can I not? To cling the cymbals and bring attention to some of the subtle niceties that have made my life and my person what it is. To be the voice of voices that may never be heard again. The voices that ring clear in my ear, the people that come to mind when I think of grace and goodness.

I guess will take that torch to the next place and hand it off to another. A person that feels the need to carry it further, the person that feels the weight of this responsibility. And I can't stop until I have made it to that place and to that person.

This blog has come to me later in life than it should have. I think the people that I have been connected with through this meager attempt to catch up on what I thought should have already been done, was long overdue. These people whose encouragement and positive energy bring joy to my days. What a nice experience this has been with very little effort on my part.

Where is the moral? Where am I going with this web I am spinning?

Perhaps this is the only way that I can write my song and sing it. A tale of people, places, smiles, laughter and love. A road that while walked I have gained wisdom from each word; written or spoken along the way. I road that even the pebbles at my feet and the birds over head can lend me insight. A tale about a road that I haven't walked alone and probably won't. In fact the road has been crowded at times and the visions of that crowded street represents the best of times. A tale that maybe I won't be able to write until I know the ending. A place I will come to with the help of so many others. It is almost as if they hoisted me to this level and then I walked on. It was the point that these people that took off my training wheels and sang lullaby's and also those that spoke firmly and kept things steady because all this is necessary. It was there that this ballad began.

I will write about people that could never die if they are with me a thousand times a day. The people that continue to amaze me at how they pull off all that they do. The people that all down the road I have thought… I want those types of qualities and abilities. During this process it is my hope that you find me. The product of so many. I will do my best not to mention money...I think that had little to do with it. I have been fortunate enough to draw from a well that gives more than dollars and cents and I hope not to pull the pail up one day and it be dry. The well that I try to give back as much as I take from. From this well my strength and faith in everything comes. I have found so many people have filled this well that keeps me going and each time I go there in need, I see their faces. That makes me glad to have come. It makes me smile to know that the sun will shine for me another day and I'll do my best not to take that for granted.

Can I do all this? Will I?

I don't know but I'll try and I am going to have a good time while I am doing it! Didn't you think I would have to?

Thank you, I am sure you all know who you are.