Yes, big word for me. But, after playing and writing in my blog for just about a year now, I have really discovered how cathartic it really is for me. Writing in general is. Even a post in facebook is, now and then; my stupid aging posts, an occassional rant. It really is therapy for me.
I may laugh at myself and think I am witty, but, it's my therapy. I may cry at things and find them sad, but, it's my therapy. I may rant at things and get angry, but it's my therapy.
I'm not great at confrontation at all, (well, except for poor Ted who gets the brunt of it mostly) so this is the way I get some of the words I want to say out. I'm not great at debating or arguing, my idea of an argument is stomping my feet to get my way. I can have a conversation and can be a good listener, but, I'm not great at thinking of interesting things to say on the fly.
I sit and listen to things my grandkids say or the things I am told they've said and really wish I would have had this therapy a long time ago, when my kids were little. I don't remember a lot of things they said or did while growing up. I remember Crystal getting in my makeup (think someone else has done that a time or two now) and wearing her grandpa's boots at the age of two. I remember finding a four-day-old KayeLynn on the floor because 3-year-old Crystal carried her across the room and could only get her half way because she was trying to help mama out by bringing her to me for her bath. I remember KayeLynn slapping at Rodger in the hospital as we were bringing him home for the first time because he was crying because of his first time in a car seat and yelling at him, "shut up baby". I remember when she was in the hospital for the very first time, just diagnosed with leukemia and when her aunt walked in the door, looked at her and asked, "you didn't bring me a present?" I remember Rodger standing outside on the swing set, singing at the top of his lungs, "I Want Your Sex" at the age of about six. I remember Rodger sitting down in the family room, playing video games and knowing he shouldn't swear and when he got frustrated he yelled at the television, "Jean Claude van Dam It!" or when talking in his sleep and saying "kiss me, kiss me on the lips".
What I wouldn't give to be able to have written all these things and so many more down when they were little. So many memories forgotten through age, through months, through years. There is nothing more important to me than my family. I really wish I had kept track of all the things they said, all the things they did. Kept track of the little stories and such. Because now, I don't remember them like I want to.
I may laugh at myself and think I am witty, but, it's my therapy. I may cry at things and find them sad, but, it's my therapy. I may rant at things and get angry, but it's my therapy.
I'm not great at confrontation at all, (well, except for poor Ted who gets the brunt of it mostly) so this is the way I get some of the words I want to say out. I'm not great at debating or arguing, my idea of an argument is stomping my feet to get my way. I can have a conversation and can be a good listener, but, I'm not great at thinking of interesting things to say on the fly.
I sit and listen to things my grandkids say or the things I am told they've said and really wish I would have had this therapy a long time ago, when my kids were little. I don't remember a lot of things they said or did while growing up. I remember Crystal getting in my makeup (think someone else has done that a time or two now) and wearing her grandpa's boots at the age of two. I remember finding a four-day-old KayeLynn on the floor because 3-year-old Crystal carried her across the room and could only get her half way because she was trying to help mama out by bringing her to me for her bath. I remember KayeLynn slapping at Rodger in the hospital as we were bringing him home for the first time because he was crying because of his first time in a car seat and yelling at him, "shut up baby". I remember when she was in the hospital for the very first time, just diagnosed with leukemia and when her aunt walked in the door, looked at her and asked, "you didn't bring me a present?" I remember Rodger standing outside on the swing set, singing at the top of his lungs, "I Want Your Sex" at the age of about six. I remember Rodger sitting down in the family room, playing video games and knowing he shouldn't swear and when he got frustrated he yelled at the television, "Jean Claude van Dam It!" or when talking in his sleep and saying "kiss me, kiss me on the lips".
What I wouldn't give to be able to have written all these things and so many more down when they were little. So many memories forgotten through age, through months, through years. There is nothing more important to me than my family. I really wish I had kept track of all the things they said, all the things they did. Kept track of the little stories and such. Because now, I don't remember them like I want to.
I so agree! Definitely the best therapy every. :)
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