because it brings me a lot of joy
because it has had a positive impact on my life
because it is always right there, in the back of my mind...
just a few of the reasons I can't let this quiet little blog of mine go.
So, here I am, after another long silence. Wondering if anyone still visits. Especially with the recent demise of google reader.
Anyone out there?
Hello : )
I'm still here. Sitting on my porch this morning in soggy North Carolina. Boy, it's been a wet summer in my little corner of the world. It's nearly noon in the middle of July in North Carolina and I'm on my front porch wearing a sweater. What???
I've been spending lots of time, here on the porch. Rocking and thinking. Sometimes accompanied by my favorite little 5 year old, sometimes just me.
I love my porch. The house I lived in for part of my growing up years had a big front porch. It was my great-grandmother's house. We lived there with her because she had Alzheimer's disease. It was my great-grandmother, my granny, my mom, my sister and my granny's brother all living in this house.
I have such fond memories of that house and that porch, probably because it was the only time in my life that my mom was there and was going to be there. She wasn't going to be gone for days or weeks or months. She wasn't going to be in a hospital or another state because of drugs. She was off drugs and was there when I went to bed and there when I woke up. She had to nearly die to get to that place and it only lasted a few years before she would die from lung disease, but for that brief time of my life, it was good. For once, to let down that heavy burden I'd always been dragging around. The worry, the shame, the fear, the anger, the disappointment, all wrapped up in one heavy bundle, it got really heavy sometimes. So, for those couple of years that I was able to put that bundle away, it was a good place to be. Time spent on that porch with my mom and my granny, my sister and whoever else happened to be over, those were good times.
I knew when I had my own house, it had to have a porch. Maybe to me it was a tangible representation of that treasured feeling of security I felt. That security that my family was together and at peace.
I do a lot praying on this porch of mine. A great deal of self analysis and soul searching as well. Things haven't fallen right into the place I sort of always expected they would. Not in a bad way, really, just not what seemed to be the natural progression of life in the little dream I'd dreamed. I sit here and pray for God to help me be at peace for what is not and what may never be.
Mostly though, my prayers are of gratitude. Things may not be just like I'd hope they would be, but they are pretty darn good, none the less. I'm so undeserving of the blessings I've been given, how can I be anything but grateful?
How is the summer shaping up for you, my friends?