As I was thinking about and trying to throw together a book pool for Dewey’s Readathon last night, I decided to go back and look at my posts from the very first 24-hour-readathon to see what books I’d read then. And then I truly got sucked into those posts from so many years ago. Reliving my introduction to the then relatively small world of book blogging. Reliving how that rekindled of my passion for reading and books. Reliving how that expanded my bookish explorations into realms I hadn’t even known existed. Reliving family stories, so many little stories of the kids that I’d forgotten, funny stories and heartbreaking stories and just everyday stories of living. Reliving the blossoming and early beginnings of some of the most important and precious relationships in my current life. I’ve tried to imagine what my life would be like if not for that first blog of mine…but it’s one of those endeavors that ends in failure. I really cannot imagine. That blog changed my life for the better. Friends like Chris and Ana help keep me going in this effed-up dystopian nightmare we’ve entered. Chris and Ana and Dewey and Eva, and many others too, all helped me grow as person, all helped me tweak my worldview whether any of them knew it or not. I’ve learned so gosh damn freakin’ much from blogging that it boggles my mind.
I cried a lot as I read through some of those old posts. Some of those tears were simply from nostalgia. A lot of those tears were over missing Dewey and how very real that void still is. (At this point I guess it’s time to admit that the grief I feel over losing my dear friend will always remain.) But some of those tears were happy tears, tears of gratitude for having these stories, those memories written in a place where I can revisit them. It made me realize in a pretty big way how much I miss blogging. Blogging in the way I did then. There was a freedom in my ramblings then, a freedom to write about whatever the hell I wanted. I felt like I was really seeing me in that old blog. Don’t get me wrong–there were definitely moments I cringed at some of the things I’d said. But that’s just proof of my growth as a person. And so much of that growth I attribute to the friendships I made through that very blog.
I want to blog like that again. I want to feel that freedom to babble about whatever the hell I please. To talk in my unsophisticated way about books. To tell the everyday stories of my life. To keep those weekly lists of the good stuff. To just be me, with all my myriad flaws and imperfections.
So this is a fresh “hello” to you, the wee bits of happy. I’m hoping that from here on out I can treat you with the love and affection that I think we both deserve. It’s still a little early in the day to toast this new beginning with champagne, but you know somehow coffee doesn’t exactly feel inappropriate here. So cheers