I find my musings are coming to me fewer and farther between...thus, I post less frequently than I did when I first began blogging. I also note I am slowly approaching 600 posts. Perhaps that is a good time to draw to a close this venture into self-publishing.
I know that I could turn my blog into a collection of essays and self-publish. However, I am not so egotistical that I give that thought much attention. I am trying to save past postings, in an electronic file, so that someone--my children?--may some day re-read them. There's a difference between being egotistical about the value of what one writes, and wishing dear ones to be able to peruse writings in their own time. My writing is my voice. And someday someone might wish to hear me speak again.
We--in our family--have had just such an experience. I have shared the story of my mother's journey in the final six weeks of her life. She died after having had heart surgery which led, inadvertently, to her acquiring a staph infection that eventually killed her. But just before she went into the hospital, she led a seminar. Someone taped it, and after her death, gave my father the tape. He passed it along to me.
When I received that tape, now 20 years ago, I listened to it. It was bittersweet to hear my mother's voice--and her laughter. I learned things there that I had never known--for example, her favorite color was blue. I didn't know that--such a little thing, yet I did not know it.
Recently, we were preparing to go to the annual family reunion that my mother's family continues to hold. Part of the event includes an auction of items on which family members might be willing to bid. My husband had the idea to convert that tape of my mother's talk and burn it on a CD--which he did. We made 4 copies--one for me, my brother and my sister. And then one to take to the family reunion.
Well, the ensuing bid between two of my cousins ran up to $30--this in comparison to other items that were bringing $1 or $2 or maybe $5. The winning cousin, who had been named after my mother, was pleased to get the CD. But, it turned out, my oldest cousin was greatly disappointed. So, I asked her if she would share the bid cost, which she agreed to--and another cousin piped up "me too". So they all chipped in, and we made 2 more copies and shipped them off.
My mother's subject--Living Fully in the Autumn of Life. How wonderful. And how ironic. I am now in the autumn of my life. And I can have my mother giving me advice and pointers.
This year has made me more aware of my own mortality more than any other year I can recall. The recent bout with atrial fibrillation made me think how thin the gossamer web of life is, and how fragile. I find myself thinking, worrying, remembering, regretting, rejoicing--all at the same time, practically.
There are still things I want to do--things that I look forward to. So, I will lower the bucket deeper into the well of inspiration. And keep on keeping on.