Remember Who You Are

When I was growing up Mother Dear used to tell me these four words anytime I was headed out the door; “Remember who you are.”

Back then I used to have one of two possible reactions. I’d either over dramatically chuckle to myself at her silliness, or, I’d over dramatically sigh and roll my eyes in annoyance. Mostly the latter. I was kind of bratty like that. And over dramatic. Somethings never change.

I mention this because a few weeks ago Husby and I were driving home for the day, and we were chatting about all sorts of things as we do, and I mentioned that I missed writing and this blog. He asked why I hadn’t started again since I do have more free time on my hands. I explained that I do get ideas and start to write things, but that I start to second guess myself, feeling that no one would want to read any of my thoughts.

Husby then asked why I cared whether people would read it or not and said; “I thought you wrote for you.”

Can we just pause here for a moment? I’d like to take a sec to acknowledge the man who is my husband and the simple yet wonderful statement he made.

He was totally right. I’d always said to him, and felt in my heart, that I didn’t care if anyone read my blog. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the time that friends and family take to visit my tiny piece of property in the land of the great big internet, and I’m thankful for you.

What I mean is that my goal was never to post things just for page counts. My purpose has always been to capture the journey Husby and I are on. To share bits of our lives with those that want to be included in our thoughts and memories.

Stress, frustrations, and lack of time is what made this place go silent. Self doubt and bubbles of depression have been what has kept it silent.

Simply put; I forgot who I was.

Sometimes maybe all it takes is a simple reminder.

That said, thank you. Thank you for sticking by my side while I got distracted by the shadows of life. I look forward to sharing more memories with you.

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