Ten years ago, I was a faithful blogger. Not one that made money or had followers, but a good, consistent journal writer. Then I stopped. Life got busy. The little voice in my head that found situations and events to write about was quiet. The truth is, life got hard. The transition from raising all of my kids under my roof, to being a more distant observer, adviser and encourager has been more challenging than I would have imagined. (What the heck previous generation!?! I could have used some hints!)
That's not to say it hasn't been achingly beautiful and intensely rewarding. But the stakes are higher and the consequences greater than managing dinners, activities and homework. And my "control" is limited to nonexistent. For someone like me, that's a difficult situation to navigate. Luckily, I'm figuring it out. I'm enjoying the different freedom I've been given. I'm still busy, but it's mostly with the joy and responsibility to care for and love the people who have been added to my life. Ryan, the kids, their spouses and our grandchildren. It's my colleagues and the students I teach each year. It's my parents, my siblings and their families. And that is a life I'm excited to live.
It's taken a while. It's taken some thought. But I'm glad to be coming back to myself. Coming back home to the most important things. And I hope to be able to express some of the lessons I've learned while finding my Home.
