Sixteen posts in seven weeks

 According to my calculator that’s a tad more than two essays per week. You may have noticed that all sixteen have titles starting with a number. That part wasn’t planned, it just happened as those first few words of welcome began to emerge on the page as I started typing. When I realized what I had done I could feel him there with me. My late husband Jim Brannon (1933-2011) was a numbers guy in every way. During our many years together, his numbers and my words often collided in amusing ways. We had quite a few private jokes about it that nobody else ever knew.  I still think often about his birth and death dates – 3-9-33 and 2-11-11.  And I often feel that he sends me ‘just the perfect words’ when I’m writing. 

You may recall that I had a little accident the next day after that first post and ended up on a walker. Four days after that, I moved into a much safer residence. And for the following six weeks, writing these little 300-word blog posts became a calm place where I could tune out the chaos of unpacking, settling in, reorganizing my lifestyle and adjusting to my new world.

And here we are on the eve of August. Going forward, I plan to continue writing as a form of self-care and therapy.  It’ll be a new chapter in my journey. Each post’s title will start with an active verb, because I’m not ready to give up on life.  Instead of counting cardboard boxes or hours at Walmart, I hope to be making or doing or planning or learning or enjoying or researching.  Or whatever else strikes my fancy.

Thanks to everyone who reads my stuff. I do it for my own mental health primarily, but knowing I have even a small audience out there in cyberspace comforts me.