I am a journalist by trade. A storyteller. I love to write. To talk with people. Find meaning in who they are, what they’ve done or had happen to them, boil it down into short stories that have impact. And share what I’ve learned. Yet, until recently, my own story was the one I had the toughest time sitting down to write about. I’d sit down to journal sporadically. A year later I’d pick it up again and apologize to myself for being a slacker and recommit to keeping a journal only to disappoint myself again.
I’m not apologizing anymore. And on many levels, I’m still slacking on this. But after losing my mother at a very young age and all of the wonderful stories we had yet to share, I have come to realize any stories, thoughts or moments I can write and preserve, may someday mean something to my daughter if no one else.
I started this blog in January of 2012 as a personal project to simply write. Journal. Keep record of, if nothing else, a year I knew would bring quite a bit of change to my life. I just wasn’t sure how much change or which direction any of it might have me traveling on this journey called life. I only knew for so many reasons, I was ready for the ride.