But I hit a blogging snag a couple of years ago and just can't get past it.
I've fallen, and I can't get up.
It's a blog clog.
Every day, I start composing posts in my thoughts such as:
Once upon a time, there was a pregnant woman who had nowhere to go
and no one who cared about her and her twins, so we took her into our home.
I'm in the long, tender process of saying goodbye to my parents.
My child has had a child. I am a grandmother.
Once upon a time, I had three children whom I mothered ... adequately.
Then they grew up and moved away. I miss their voices and faces so much
that it's hard to look at pictures of our family from those years.
But I don't get past those initial thoughts.
Forward and backward, forward and backward, one recedes, comes another. The waves always bring in little treasures and take away little treasures. Sometimes I raise my head to the horizon, but I always feel the waves lapping at my ankles and shins, reminding me that everything is changing right under me. I can feel it.
So I'm going to write about the little treasures that flow in and flow out. Maybe if I narrow things down, I can approach them and put them down for someday.
But today, all I can do is write generally about the flow and change. Sometimes I'm just speechless. And that is when there is nothing to do but let the waves wash over me.