Why do I write? I write, simply enough, because I have to. There are words and stories inside of me that need to be told. They need to be heard. My voice needs to be heard. This is why I began writing. This is why I continue to write.
I started this blog to write my stories, not so much for others to read, but, as proof I existed, that I was here. Some may not see my stories as their own, they may have different memories. After all, we all live our lives and have our own stories. These are my memories; and I tell them with no apologies. I hope others understand.
I was recently asked why I write. It took me a while to figure out if why I originally began writing was the same reason I am still writing today. In the meantime, life happened, as they say and the question, believe it or not continued to circulate around in my head constantly. My answer, in some ways, keeps changing, while also remaining the same.
I began blogging to write stories about who I am and about my life. It was meant to be a legacy to my grandchildren about who their Nana was. About 16 years ago, I divorced my daughters’ father. He alienated them from me, and like most victims of parental alienation, they do not see or understand this, and the last sixteen years have been a personal kind of hell for me. My youngest daughter and I have begun building a relationship from now going forward. The past is taboo. My older daughter has not spoken to me in ten years or better. She is married and has two children, my grandchildren, whom I am not allowed to have any interaction with.
That was why I began writing; to leave stories behind for them. Then, one day when I was depressed and didn’t have a story to write, I decided to write a book review on the latest book I was reading. Book reviewing opened up a whole new world that I never knew existed and my blog’s following began growing, and growing. And, although I write a lot of book reviews, it is the personal stories that have found their way into people’s hearts. It seems that life resonates with everyone.
Then, in March of this year – 2011 – I was diagnosed with Essential Thrombocythemia, and with that diagnosis came a not so good prognosis. In June, I was diagnosed with a second rare blood disorder, Polycythemia Vera. Once again, my world was tilted on its axis and I walked around in a daze trying to take it all in and gain a little prospective. I know why I began writing, but all of a sudden, I was trying to figure out why I continue to write.
I love to write and I love telling my stories, and goodness knows, there’s a huge stack -or two- of books I need to read and review for authors. So, right now, that is my focus. I will continue to read and write my reviews, and when stories happen, I will continue to document my adventures in the hope that my grandchildren will one day read them and know who their Nana was. Because, no matter what anyone else says, the only way to truly know a person is to know their story.