Now that I have begun to walk down memory lane the stories are waking in my soul. I don’t feel THAT old but childhood seems like a long way back, along that winding rock strewn path.
I would never have thought I would ever refer to the old days but here I am and there they sit. Waiting to be remembered. There were good days and bad. On more than a few occasions it seemed that the bad outnumbered the good. But from where I sit now, the lessons learned in the difficult days are somehow precious and memorable in a bittersweet sort of way. I think stories told of lives lived during less than jovial times are good.
I smile about that time, now.
There is depth from which to draw.
I can share with you when you are happy and when you are sad. Because I have been there. In both places. Just as you have been there.

It takes a variety of experiences to enrich a life.,

“What in the world will I ever BE.” I said
“I don’t know what I want to do”. “I just don’t know”. I said

He was sitting quietly, reading. He liked to read. He immersed himself in books about his favorite subject. God. He wanted to be more like Jesus and he spent a lot of time quietly reading about Him. The book of choice, tattered and marked, was the Bible. What better way to learn about someone than their autobiography. Straight from the source. I knew he was listening as I whined and worried but I wasn’t really looking for answers to my questions.
Then, with just a glance at me he said, “you should probably be a writer”. “You are a good writer and like to write and do well at writing”. That’s all I remember about that conversation, with my father. I went on to do a few different things but writing has always been an interest.
Writing and cooking.
I don’t know, maybe I will do a bit of writing in the future. Life is short and there is so much to share.
Sunday afternoon Rest