Once upon a time there was a young girl. There wasn't anything special about her, not to the naked eye anyway. She wasn't born with beauty or grace. But her love of life and thirst for knowledge was apparent at an early age. Throughout her life she recorded her joys, her sorrows, in the best way she knew how...thru the written word. She put it out there for the world to see when she reached her 50's...she grew up, by the way...never dreaming anyone would ever come read it. Never dreaming it would ever impact anyone.
She's really a pretty simple woman. On the outside, anyway, the 'side' most of the people around her see. She's not a woman of a lot of verbal words, verbal thinking. She observes and ponders and wonders and stews. Oh, she has opinions...yes, she does. But she doesn't dole out advice. If you want to know what she thinks you have to come to her and ask. Just like it is with the physical side of her, too...affection isn't always easily given, but it's appreciated and taken gladly when it's given to her. She appears to be open. She appears to face the world around her with a friendly, easy demeanor. She appears to be a lot of things. But she isn't.
It always boils down to her words, her written words. That's where you find her, tucked in to her almost-daily musings. You read about her life, her loves, her heartaches, her losses. You come to know the woman behind the name of "Grandma". You feel her contentment with her life even amidst the busyness and fullness of her days. You can feel the peace in her soul as she writes about her love for her grandboys, for her books, music, and her garden. For The Man She Loves and her family.
And that is where this is taking me this evening, to my written words. To those of you who asked for, received, and responded to my life story. It is to thank you for opening your hearts to me, for not judging me. For reading my written words and knowing it was written from my heart, which is where all my written words dwell anyway.