I'm wondering still over here.
Although I tend to write my wonderings on paper with a pen. And when finished I close the lovely leather bound journal and tuck it under my large pile of books. No one reads my thoughts, my wonderings there. I go back and smile at what I wrote years later.
Is anyone reading blogs anymore? I'm reading more printed books than ever. I suspect you are too?
I've gotten some littles in my life again. That would mean grandchildren if you were wondering. I see the joy in how he finds the marbles I hide in the planters for him. The eyes sparkling when I read a book. How things have changed in that I can read over FaceTime! What a difference one generation can make!
Will the generation behind me read blogs? Will they even read books? I find the squeeze of time harder than ever. How did I have time to write and read when I had six young children? Now that I have less children learning at home, I do feel like I am reading more books for myself. But where is my time going? Is it the older persons who still need my time? My emotional energy? (why are there so many questions and so little answers in my writing today?)
How do you find time to squeeze in the care for older parents and grandchildren? Maybe it was easier when they all lived within walking distance of your home. Hint?
As the older parents pass, I wonder about the grief. The joy of littles balanced with the grief of loss. The grief of change. The lump in your throat when they move out. You smile. Then you hide in your closet and cry. I want the time to stop. I want the time to hurry. What a mix of emotions.
We have always been blessed with great neighbors (is that just a matter of opinion?). The older persons who bring us good thoughts of times past. They teach us new skills that we might have learned when we were younger had we lived in the country. I learn. They try to help us understand what time was like. Before I was here, others were wondering before me. They looked forward. They also looked back. I keep wondering.
so I'm writing. a little bit here.
I'm writing a lot on paper. I'm finding my older voice. I'm using different voices when I read aloud to a little one. I'm talking to those who have passed on. I'm listening more to the past. I will keep questioning. I will keep walking. I wonder why.