It’s not going to be possible to “catch up” here.
Too much has happened since I was writing consistently and regularly. I guess no one’s reading this chronologically, anyway. But I think the weight of all the years not writing does often feel to me like a block or weight that keeps me from starting again. Maybe acknowledging that won’t be fixed will help me be free of that feeling.
I’m on the back porch in the sun, looking out over the lake. This is our home now. Sometimes I miss California, the mountains and the weather and the people, but this place is definitely our home now. A cinder block house we own outright, on a small lake. Place is in good shape and I do my best to take care of it so it’ll last. I’m proud of where I am personally, the changes I’ve made and the person I am.
Our kids are so old. Our marriage, too. Proud of all that, also. I like what we bring to this earth, I’m pleased with our energy. I feel like we’re all doing a good job trying to learn and grow as we mature. We’re doing a good job. Sometimes I wish my parents were able to see our family; how we’re doing, how similar our route so far ended up being to theirs in some ways, how much better in others.
I’ve felt inspired to write for over a year but I’ve just not done it. I have the time, too. I’ve just not made it part of my routine.