Since then, I haven't been able to blog, not because I haven't had things to say (Passing my Arabic test, the pack-out from hell, Saudi Arabia is fascinating!), but because I didn't know how to start writing again. How do I write anything about this summer without talking about the massive hole in my heart and my soul? I didn't (don't) want to write publicly about her death. But skipping over it and pretending it didn't happen wasn't an option either. So every time I thought about writing something, I had this giant decision to make - talk about Mom's death (and it's impact on every
And that brings me back to writing this blog. It sprung from letters I wrote home when I was a high school exchange student in Italy. By the time I was a college exchange student, I had upgraded to an email list serve. When blogs started to gain popularity I switched formats again and I started this blog in 2010 just before I started A-100. Whenever I wrote, I always knew that whatever I wrote, Mom would read it. She was my audience. Others could and did read what I wrote, but I always wrote with her in mind. If I wasn't willing to tell my mother a story, I knew I shouldn't blog about it. And my Mom was a great audience. She would always comment to me (either online or on the phone) about what I wrote. She loved my stories. I always assumed that at least 80% of her love for my stories was because I was her son and maybe 20% was the writing or the story. I've always been okay with that.
Right now, I don't know if I will keep blogging or not. For 6 years, blogging has brought me joy. Today, it only brings me sadness.
I miss you Mom, I love you the most.
|Thanksgiving in San Antonio|
|Drinking beers at the British High in Belize|
|Dancing at my wedding|