A few weeks ago, I was out of town, at the hospital having my regular six-month scans. I already knew that surgery was imminent, it was only a matter of how soon. It was early in the morning, 3 a.m. I didn't want to wake my husband, but I could not continue to lie in bed, alone with my thoughts and the too familiar specters of fear and anxiety. I got up and logged onto the internet. I surfed my usual blogs-- those of people I know outside of the blogosphere, and those of people whose writing voices and willingness to share their day-to-day with me makes them people that I enjoy having a visit with. And suddenly, I was home. I might as well have been sitting on my couch with my laptop, which is my usual Sunday morning routine. The dread was gone. It had slipped out, defeated, without me noticing. What the future held for me got lost in the mundane details and sometimes profound musings of the strangers I know so well.
Now, I have joined the ranks of the bloggers (somewhat belatedly, I realize) because their is power in the written word, no matter how it's written or how it's delivered. Power for both writer and reader. Power to touch, comfort, move, amuse, and to both provoke thought and to hold thought at bay. Not one to regularly leave comments to my blogging friends, may this serve as my thank you.
