“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ~ Maya Angelou
I often hear the statement, “Everyone has a story.” And I believe it. Right now I’m wondering what the bird’s story is, based on this photo. I hang this little bird house in my back yard because I like the pretty copper roof. I’ve never seen birdie activity in it. That stuff hanging out is like a big puff-ball of something that looks like the seed-carrying fluff from dandelions or from cottonwood trees. It looks as if the bird got interrupted before finishing the nest. I’ve been watching it today but I haven’t seen any action. I guess I will never know Birdie’s story. Too bad.
I used to imagine titles for a would-be story about my mother. I knew she would never write it but I thought I might. Actually, I didn’t really intend to write it. I just had fun making up titles. Things like Momma Will Suck the Blood Right out of You. Or Mom’s Picture is in the Dictionary Right Beside Enabler. Another one is I Don’t Really Think Mom Wanted Children. You get the idea.
In her defense, I will say that life wasn’t kind to my mother and she wasn’t kind to herself. But she was kind to me and she was generous with what little she had to give. She’s been gone for almost two years and now I wish I had asked more questions. Things only she knew. I know some pretty heavy-duty things about her that I won’t enumerate here. I think she is one of those people Maya Angelou is talking about in the quote above. Her story was a heavy burden. She managed as well as she could. And she mothered the best she knew how given the circumstances of her family of origin.
I started to write this evening with the intention of talking about telling my story via this blog. I tend to wander off task. My fingers take off as if they have some mission that I don’t know about. Maybe they do.
I think I’ve mentioned this before, or at least alluded to it. Writing regularly (more or less) has given me a voice that I never knew I had. What my divorce took away from me, my writing has given back. I have regained a sense of who I am. I never completely lost my sense of humor but it’s with me now stronger than ever. I love art. I love music. I can pursue any and all interests as I see fit. I love that you are reading my blog and I thank you for that. Life is good. (So it says on my many t-shirts.)