So this is it. An ordinary day that has really big things attached to it.
And to be honest, I’m really excited.
For every single day, three years in a row, I’ve sat down at some point during my day, usually after all have gone to bed and the house is quiet, and I’ve shared a little bit of my day or my story or my heart right here.
And you’ve read these tidbits from my life.
With all my heart, I thank you. I know what it’s like to have all the things to do and little time to click on a link or pull something up on a screen and commit to reading it, especially when I get a little wordy–yes, I’ve been called out on this, you know who you are, and I love ya. And still, you’ve done this. You’ve listened to my stories about growing up, raising children, being married, struggling through food allergies, letting my oldest grow up and leave the nest. You’ve multiplied my joys and divided my sorrows, and you’ve raised your fist at injustices right alongside me.
You’ve read the goofy and the serious. The mundane and the meaningful. The poetry and the prose. You’ve sat on my front porch and watched the delight and joy of children and heard the beauty in the songs of the birds and the frogs and watched the sun go down as we sipped the perfect cup of coffee. You’ve laughed with me and wept with me.
You’ve given me the gift of your time and your presence, and as long as I have my memory, I will treasure this gift.
This week, anticipating this day coming, I’ve thought about what I’ve learned in the past three years, and if you will allow me, I’d like to share them with you.
*Sometimes you can put your whole being–heart, mind, soul–into something, and it doesn’t resonate with a single soul. Speak it anyway. You need to let that light shine, y’all. Just because someone doesn’t notice it doesn’t mean it’s not making the world a brighter place. Shine on.
*People can be beautiful, broken, hard, kind, mean, intense, easy-going, light-hearted, broken-hearted, funny, somber, sarcastic, caring, compassionate, salty, loving, oblivious, and we need to love them all. It’s basically our most important job and really, it’s what we were created for.
* My family–every last one of them–are incredible people. They might not set world records in things that will get them in that book that was the most checked out one in our school library, but they set the world record at loving me and supporting and encouraging and taking my phone calls even though they have all the things to do. My children and the Fella have put up with my glazed stares when they’ve caught me mid-writing or mind-writing, and they’ve supported my writing by giving me space and time to do it. They’ve read my stories and they’ve proofed my writing and they’ve given me permission to share our life with others. I’m getting way more love and good stuff than I could ever deserve in this life, y’all. When I sit and ponder on it all, in the words of my oldest, Aub, “I. Can’t. Even.”
*I set out writing this in 2013 in the midst of the grief of having said goodbye to my Mama suddenly and way too soon less than two months before. Mama told me a lot of things–two of which were “You might need a nap, go lie down, and you’ll feel better” (she was always right) and “Go write your story, tell all of this in a book somewhere.” (Turns out she was right about that too.) Writing has and continues to heal me. The words that I’m able to pick out and put on paper take a confusing, wonderful journey and make a little bit of sense out of it. For that I am thankful. Every single day of it.
*The ones who have already left this world and headed on up to the House left me a few things. Even some that could be loosely called “family jewels.” What I have discovered for the past three years is that the most precious things my Granny, my Great Aunts, my Mama, my Daddy, and the others I love, who are gone from my sight, have left me are the stories. The memories. The joy, the laughter, the shared tears, the tiny little moments and the big ones–all which led me to this place right here in this place right now. THOSE are the jewels they left me that I treasure the most.
And I hope that’s what these stories, these three years of writing will be for my own people one day. The ones in my family now, and those who will be. Because my family is not complete. We’ve all kinds of branches and leaves yet to grow…..we’ve got strong roots to grow from, and that’s a precious thing. I hope that all of them will find something here in the meanderings I’ve shared to lift them in the dark days and something to laugh about on the joyful ones.
*Finally, I’ve learned that there is something worth writing home about in every single day…..if only you are willing to look for it. (And believe me, some days I was turning over rocks to look, but there was never a day without something, some thoughts or words or stories to share.) This is a journey made of many footsteps and many stories. One day, one moment at a time. The truth is that February 29th comes around once every four years. It is special. But if we are looking for it, March 29th can be just as amazing. As can September 19th or March 3rd or November 16th or February 10th or December 14th or the twelfth of Everyday. Each and every day can have a bit of light in it, if we stop searching for the big and amazing and star-studded. The journey of an earthworm can be just as fascinating as the snow that falls from the sky, if we open our eyes to the beauty embedded in all aspects of the journey.
All this leads me to this. I am taking a break from writing for I Might Need a Nap for a while. It might be a week (I have folks enforcing this, so yeah, it will be at least a week), a month, or maybe even longer. I will come back and write here when the story is there. But I am not going to stop writing. It would be like no longer breathing to stop writing at this point in my life.
I have a project I’m working on which I am very excited about. It’s coming together nicely, but it requires more attention from me, and since that means letting go of the blog or my family…..well, in a saner moment, I made my choice. I am looking forward to sharing more details when the time comes.
I’ve also had someone come round who wants me to tell her story. I tried to explain real kindly that her timing wasn’t ideal. That made her harrumph. (That’s a real thing. If you’ve seen it, you know it.) She crossed her arms and stared me down over her glasses and just nodded and kept on rocking. That worried me more than the harrumph. I have tried to placate her, but she looks up at the clock and back at me from time to time, and I realize our time to tell her story is dwindling, so that’s on my agenda next as well. Helping her tell her story. She’s a character for sure, and I love her. So I’m going to spend some time with her. Because that’s what we do for folks we love.
Unlike other times when I’ve contemplated stepping away for a little bit, I’m excited. That’s how I know the time is right. I will be back, as there are more stories to come. But for now, I’m going to go to bed before the chickens are waking up, I’m going to read good books, I’m going to take long walks in the evening, and if anyone asks, I’ll visit and tell my stories in person. Because that’s something I want to pursue as well. (So yeah, holler, and I’ll come spin a tale or two–bring the back porch to y’all, so to speak. Turns out I get a kick out of that too.)
Thank you for sharing the journey. If you have a moment to click the follow button over there and sign up with your email, you’ll be sure not to miss any future stories. No worries if that’s not your thing. Just please come back to visit from time to time. Like I said, all kinds of good things going on over here at the house.
But first, I might need a nap.
I’ll catch y’all later. Make ’em be good to you.
Love to all.