This blog has become an important part of my life. Not only that, but much of my life comes out through this blog. Many days, I've sat staring at a blank screen wondering, what on earth will I write about today? And then suddenly I have an idea and the inspiration pours out. I'm left with a few paragraphs full of my heart, that would never have manifested in any other way if I didn't have this blog.
I always thought that at number 365, I would be ready to call it quits. But now that I'm here, I can't imagine giving it up just yet. It's more than a habit now, it's something I look forward to and put the best of myself in. You've read about my family, my faith, and my music. That may as well be the blood that runs through my veins, the breath that keeps me alive, and the brain that makes it all come together.
I put together a short video about what this blog is to me, in my head. (Disclaimer, I am NOT a videographer, so bear with me! Hopefully you get the idea. It starts silent, so there's nothing wrong with your sound). Enjoy the video. I also want to express a heartfelt thank you to every single person who has read one, a dozen, a hundred, or more of my blog posts. I am thinking about you when I click "Publish Post" and hoping that you too find something positive, beautiful, funny, or thoughtful in these words (or music). Below the video, I've reposted my very first entry, that after all these months, is still my very favorite one.
A familiar feeling came over me as I walked back to the subway. It subtly crept into my mind, but not all the way yet. My mind was too busy trying to remember which train I took to get here in the first place and where to transfer to get back to the bus station. Is this the uptown or downtown 6 train? Let's see, Brooklyn is down, Queens is up...going east...never eat soggy waffles - north, east, south, west...smelly, crowded, no seats, don't get motion sick. Forgot to take motion sick pill before I left. Finally to Port Authority, check the bus schedule, 4 minutes to get to the gate! Running in heels, my backpack of sheet music slapping against my hip as I race up the escalator and arrive out of breath, but on time, to bus 163. As I take my seat by a window and catch my breath, the feeling is no longer subtle. It is monstrous. I feel it swell in my chest, burn my ears and neck, and finally over flow through tears out my eyes. Another failure. Another "No thank you." Another unreturned phone call and e-mail. Another waste of bus fare. Why do I bother? Why do this?
When I pulled out my phone to turn it off silent, I saw I had a new voicemail. They must have called while I was on the subway. I listened to my messages as I stared out the window into the black night and wiped my cheeks. One from the realtor, delete. One from Omaha Steaks, delete and quit trying to sell me stuff. One from my dad, which is a little unusual. I am the one who normally calls my parents because they're always worried to call me at a bad time. As I listen, a few more tears roll down, but not angry, desperate tears. Thankful ones.
"Hi sweety. It's your number one fan. I love you and I'm proud of you. Talk to you later."
Well. I guess I can do this.