Friday, January 11, 2013
Letters Make Words and Words make Stories
So I tell stories. True stories. Stories that engage. Stories that pull people in and pull people together. Stories that will make you think, make you cry, and make you laugh. Stories that will make you question yourself, make you question others, and work hard to reach resolutions. Stories that make you want to pick up the phone and call your parents or send a card to a friend who is hurting. Stories that will take you back down the road of your own childhood and remind you why you need to share those stories with children and grandchildren of your own. Stories that will remind you that our children and our parents are people too, and maybe, just maybe, we forget that sometimes.
It began for me in high school. I was Chief Editor/Writer of our school newspaper. I had a wonderful Journalism teacher who allowed freedom of speech, thought and process. I wrote controversial editorials, heartfelt stories and funny antidotes. But I wrote, and wrote and wrote, all to bring attention to myself, what I had to say, and to command involvement of the readers. To bring them to my world, if only for the five minutes it took to read what I had to say.
When I created my Face Book account it was for communication purposes. To see my children, to see my friends, to socialize once again with people that had long left my life for lack of more accurate words. And then I found it again. My old love for words. For story telling. For inviting people into my most private thoughts. I began to share my life. My family life. And all that is inclined to represent. I invited you to interact with my family, in my house, on our boat, in our yard and described it the best I could, in hopes that you would believe and feel as if you were here.
But that wasn't enough. I had so much more to say. So I created a Blog post. To enable me to tell even bigger stories. With more detail, more animation, more color, and even more involved intricacies of my life. My only regret is that I could never make it real enough. That I could not create video and sound to corroborate my words. The faces, the expressions, the funny voices, and the absolute uncanny comedic timing with which my family seems to be blessed.
Unfortunately, with these stories, posts, and status's, also comes notoriety. Sounds a little dramatic I am sure, but it's pretty real. Both of my children and my husband have become people that everyone seems to think they know personally, some without having ever even met them at all. Because of me, they know them by name, nicknames, their likes and dislikes. Their hobbies, their humor, accomplishments, their downfalls and weaknesses. And in saying all of that, I fully realize that is what I created. A sense of familiarity and sense of belonging.
For some members of my family, this has become just too much of an insight into their lives. And I get that. However much I don't mind sharing, or making myself look ridiculous (all in the name of a laugh or smile) others are not as willing to share the most intimate parts of their being.
I'm not sure how much I can "entertain" anymore. I will certainly continue to share my own stories, but also realizing I am not anyone's favorite thing to read about. It brings me great joy that you like my family enough to read what I have to say. It brings me great pride to know that my stories are read in vast ranges of age, and it gives me comfort that every now and again, I can help someone feel better about themselves, their own relationships, and their lives.
I've appreciated your loyalty, your comments and your opinions. Thanks for reading. And I thank you for those of you who will continue to read my words still.