Blogging

I remember the first time I heard about the concept of blogging.

I thought it sounded idiotic.

Who would want to read my inner thoughts?

Who would I want to read their inner thoughts?

I just imagined a blog where a person recounted their day including what meals they ate, what work was like, and what was on TV.  

I even created this one when bored one day at work.

I wrote in it once but never think of anything else I wanted to say to the whole world wide web. 

Sure I had things I could vent about.

Things about work.

Things about family.

Things about friends.

Nothing that I would want everyone to read however.

Nothing that would not hurt someone's feelings.

So the blog hibernated.

Until I had lots to say.

Until I could not contain the bear anymore.  

Around my house, in notebooks, in my car, and in my purse, I have these small scraps of paper that I find with things I want to blog about.

Things that come in the middle of the night or while driving.  

My goal is to write at least once a day for at least a year.  

And I was afraid that I would run out of things to say.

Boy, was I wrong.  That has not happened in the slightest.

I usually have about five or six ideas bouncing around.

[This month has been hard keeping up with all my traveling.]

I miss blogging on the days I do not do it.  

The thoughts seem to come more.  

This blog has helped me gather my thoughts.

Helped me think things through.

Document things I do not want to forget.

Avoid the dreaded "How are you?" question since I could just point people here.

It has been an element of therapy.

But then...

There is the judgement.

So many things do not get blogged about.

As many widow/widower friends know, people who do not understand judge you.  

People may think I am doing things out of order.

People may think I am not grieving properly.

People may think I am moving on too fast.

People may think I did not love Roger enough.

And then there are my friends who read this blog.

And my family who reads this blog.

And Roger's family who reads this blog.  

I do not want to hurt anyone's feelings.

I never want to hurt anyone's feelings.

So I leave them out.

Which sucks for all those widows and widowers who want to know if they are normal.  

I know I am searching to know if I am normal.

If I am doing things "correctly".

And I want to vent about things.

Talk about my various feelings about sex and love and everything else.  

Instead I email my fellow shitty club members.  

Instead I call the people that will understand.

Which I guess is fine.  

Such is life.  

I guess there are club rules that are not enforced by its members but by society.

By unwritten rules.

By scouring looks.

By whispers behind my back.

So I apologize to my fellow club members for the phone calls and long rambling emails.  

But thank you all for listening and making me feel normal.