Always Good To Check Back In Now and Then....

It is a new year, and 4-1/2 months since the last post in the blog.  Just checking back in on Blogger has yielded a fabulous find....the Peace Corps Blog my son in Senegal has started (no I did not know, yes he did not tell me).  So already it is a productive move to re-open Blogger!  That's him in the green being sworn in as a Volunteer. Mother's privilege.  

Decluttering continues -- not at a furious pace, but still.  Currently I am returning to the plastic tubs of stuff that had already been divided into chronological sections of my life.  I have basically been reviewing pre-1951 and then 1951-1985 and another brief section of time 1990-1996.

The closer I get to the Internet Era, the fewer letters I have to read.  We used to write letters.  I come from a family of seven.  I have many letters saved from my parents, together and individually, and from my three brothers (fewer from my sister, as she has never been a letter writer).  I also have many of my own letters to them, as I have my mom's stash that she saved over the years, and also my deceased middle brother's saved letters.

Let me just say that I am astounded at the constant communication between and among us all.  The topics generally are divided into: what's going on now and what I wish I was doing instead.  Mixed in are commentaries about the costs of things and the contents of our bank accounts.  Problems with cars.  Whether the dogs are doing okay.  The weather.

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Every once in awhile, there will be some very insightful statements about the family.  We had the typical family drama and then some of our very own special variety of soap opera.

Clearly I did alot of writing in an operatic manner about "where was I going in my life."  Also:  "I am so miserable."  I know this because of the letters I got from my parents which are shot through with compassion and wisdom.  Not sure I recognized that support at the time, or how special it was.  I think I probably felt entitled to it, or alternatively, accustomed to it and thus a little deaf.  I also remember feeling defensive about 96% of the time so I may even have been angry at "being talked to like I was a little kid." (Which, of course, I was, emotionally at least.)

Again I feel I must look through all these years of family life, remembered and long-forgotten. I'm in transition, so looking back and then moving forward with less baggage makes so much sense to me.
Onward!!!