Blogging has created a sense of connection. Dinner conversation includes mention of my air friends. " Mary just bought a new house. I like her floors...We need to pray for Isaac and his family he’s going back to Iraq in a couple of weeks... Even though Ike didn’t do anything here, you should see Xandra’s yard.” I talk about people that I have never met like they are old friends. And in a way, they are.
The most surprising blogging development has been a closer relationship with family. We are ten hours from our nearest relatives and a half a globe away from the farthest. The blog has given me a way to throw open the front door and welcome family and friends into our days. No cleaning required. One by one my sisters have caught onto the ease of this type of entertainment and now they are joining the blog world in droves. I love when my children and I crowd around the computer to share the details of their lives and I love knowing that they do the same.
It turns out I have a cast full of characters under my roof who love to see their name in lights.
My kids' baby pictures are thrown into boxes. They’ll never make it into a photo album. I don’t have the time, inclination or patience. Painting word pictures gives me a way to record family history without the clutter. So long, scrapbook guilt.
I love these days when I am but an arms length away from my children. I gather them up and hold them close while I can and I stop time and bottle memories with this blog. I want the children to remember. I write to give future sons and daughters-in-law a chronicle that will help them unlock the mysteries of their spouse. When my children are grown, I want them to be able to browse through this memoir and know me as I know myself and to see themselves through my eyes.
History lives and breathes for me. I can see and hear the people from the ages when I read their stories. I think that one day, this gigantic collection of public diaries will be like Pompeii to a future people. They’ll brush away the memes and give aways and stat counters and find that in spite of our outdated Crocs, and Blackberries and an unexplainable affinity for Diet Coke that we were just like them.
Because I am a blogger, I spend my days turning over the rocks of ordinary in search of the extraordinary. It’s magical when a couple of unrelated events suddenly tie themselves together into a post. Right now I’m trying to figure out how a count down calendar, a wide open freezer door, and a pair of sandals might gel into a story.
Blogs have made this big world so much smaller. I take in the writings of those who are unfortunate, grieving, angry, preening, petty and I am grateful for my life. Conversely, blogging highlights the best of mankind. I enjoy the talents of those who are smarter, funnier, more creative, more spiritual, more compassionate and I stretch to grow beyond myself. It would wonderful if this blog does the same for a reader or two.