1. It’s hard to be content.
Even when you have the most adorable grand baby in the world. And another one on the way. And meaningful work. And great kids. And good health, overall. Food in the fridge. A roof overhead. A hot shower every day.
Yet, I get weighed down and overwhelmed with the things I wish we’re different. Dirty carpets, dirty windows, messy closets. Bills to pay. Overwhelming list of things to do. Decisions to make. Conflicts, tensions, uncertainty. Tight clothes. Noise. Clutter.
The negative threatens to over take my thoughts, even when surrounded by so much positive. Why is that?
2. I read three fantastic books.
Plus a bunch that were just so so and some that were truly terrible. But I’ll only tell you about the great ones.
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Educated by Tara Westover
What would it be like to step into a classroom for the first time at 17 and go on to earn a Phd?
It’s amazing how a simple telling of one’s life can be so powerful. Even more extraordinary than Tara’s life is her ability to tell her history objectively.
Read the full review here.
Truly a work of art.
All the threads woven together masterfully. Everything revealed at the precise moment. The author knows how to connect emotionally to the reader. You’re drawn in from the first page to the last.
A family of Polish Jews fight for their lives and freedoms across Europe and across continents
Amazing, incredible accounts based on the history of the author’s relatives. Although I had trouble at first keeping the adult children and their locations straight, once I did, the intriguing series of events had me hooked.
If you love to read, don’t miss my notable memoir list and 8 stand out novels to rekindle your love for reading.
3. The intangible losses of my past are elusive.
I tried to capture it in a short story, Melting the Frozen Grief of the Global Nomad
A realization dawned that buried in my childhood was something rare and precious. And I lost it. Of course, growing up wasn’t 18 years of idyllic life. But there was something really, really good there that isn’t there any more.
I also tried to illustrate that creativity is an antidote to grief. It’s necessary for the healing, to compensate for the loss. Something of beauty needs to be created to fill the vacuum. In my story, Brenda painted a sea scape. For me, more often, it’s words or words and pictures. Or something visual.
I’m having a hard time articulating it. But this is why write. To untangle the thoughts and feelings till they make sense.