As my Facebook page so kindly keeps reminding me, it’s Sue’s birthday today. Trust me: I know.
Not coincidentally, I started this blog one year ago in her honor.
Lately, I’ve been putting a lot of thought into what I want to do with it going forward—and what you want from it. I wrote lists. I even drew a grid. Despite my marketing expertise, I’m kind of embarrassed to admit this, but … it didn’t help.
As you’ve probably discerned by now, I’m all over the place. I’m not a one-dimensional entity. Neither was Sue. Neither are you. Marketing has led me to believe that’s a problem, but I’m having a problem seeing it as a problem. Is that a problem?
All of us nurture, create, befriend, explore, play, achieve, inspire, remember, share, defy, and follow our bliss, in no particular order. This blog honors all those pursuits (and more) that I shared with Sue … and presumably share with you. It’s a devotion born of grief, awakened by the question that has haunted me in the wake of that grief:
What do I want to do with my life?
For me, that the answer is, has been, and (I’m guessing) always will be: to write. So that’s what I’ll continue to do.
We are not a brand and a market, you and I. We are two people waving flags at one another across the information superhighway. But it’s a two-way street—or at least, I’d really like it to be.
You, whoever you are, are reading this for a reason. I’d like to know what that reason is. Maybe someday you’ll tell me. In the meantime, I hope my passion and honesty keep you coming back while you (and I) figure it out.
If there’s anything you’d like me to write more about, tell me. If there’s anything you’d like to share, share it. What do you want to do with your life? Is there anything I can do to help you achieve that?
I look forward to another year of sharing My Castle Heart with you, in honor of life and in honor of Sue.
6 thoughts on “1-Year Blogiversary”
Recently I’ve been dealing with questions from my 5 yr old on the whereabouts of his astranged father. He makes comments like “I wish my dad were here” or he makes up stories about doing things with his dad. While I don’t want to lie to my child, I don’t think it is appropriate to give him the honest truth about how much of a sorry deadbeat his father has really turned in to. Much of his father’s demise is due to mental illness (which I believe goes ignored in many cases, especially with children). Add in the element of biracial ethnicity, and it turns into a cornacopia of third party questions regarding the authenticity of my biological motherhood. So perhaps you could do some writing on how the strucutre of the family unit has evolved and chilren with mental illness such as depression. I would love to hear others thoughts. I can read about it from experts but experience from others is most useful. Now that kindergarden is starting I’m sure the questions will only increase as friends have two moms or friends are adopted, and dad continues to be abscent during milestones.
I forgot to add… how this all ties? I believe there is a grieving process of sorts that a person goes through when they lose someone physically or emotionally even if the person is not deceased. So, how does a parent deal with the grief of their child when the other parent is not there physically or emotionally?…and there is mental illness involved and they are dealing with questions from their peers about their familial structure?
Wow. What an interesting take on this. I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but you’re totally right. Be careful now, or you might have me bugging you for another guest post. 😉
Thank you for your blog this past year. For me, reading it is that special moment in my day like that lady in the Folger’s commercials– where she gets up and has that moment of calmness while she sits there drinking her coffee. For me, your blog is my cup of coffee. It’s just that moment in my day where time stops and I get a moment between the two of us. Thanks for that.
Thanks, Robin. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. I have to admit, sometimes it’s kind of surprising to me to remember that people are actually reading it. It’s such a good exercise for my soul, and I’m elated that others are feeling the residual benefits. Keep reading; I’ll keep writing!