I just received a renewal notice for my blog. It's been almost a year of blogging for me. Being in my sixties seems a bit like being an adolescent except the future seems shorter and there are the inevitable losses.
It is almost a year since my father died and our lives have gone on. Life is like that, I guess. When I was a girl at school, I used to think that if my name disappeared from the class list, I would soon be forgotten no matter how hard I tried or how successful I was.
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.- Thoreau
Since I was a young student, this quote by Henry David Thoreau has caused me to stop and think about
what I was doing and why. I have been retired for two and a half years and right now I feel a little lost and lonely. Hardly a day goes by that I don't think about teaching. I don't miss the sameness of going to the job but I miss the "big ideas" and the possibility of touching the life of a young person. The Arts One professor who chose to read Walden with his first year students did not know how it would affect me. When I chose a story for children, I always hoped that a least one child would feel even a momentary connection.
When I write my blog, I hope for the same connection with my readers. I am not a wardrobe guru, a gourmet chef or an interior decorator. What I have to share are the challenges and the delights of being an almost 62 year-old woman. I face the next year with lots of uncertainties:will I continue to travel if my husband doesn't come, do I need to find a new way to teach, will I grow my grey hair out ( I really like The Hostess' hair)…. The list goes on forever.
As I think about almost a year of writing, I recognize the dedication of those bloggers who have continued to share their lives with others over several years. Although I started to read blogs only 18 months ago, I feel a connection to a community of bloggers.
I don't know where the next year will take me:geographically, emotionally or spiritually. There are no roadmaps for ageing wisely and graciously but I know that I will continue to learn from the experiences of others and I hope that at least one reader will read my words and feel a connection.
An afterthought: when I retired, a gifted student that I worked with presented me with a Thoreau mug which is part of the legacy of my long ago Arts One professor.