For the past week, I've logged into my blog site and stared at the blank page, thinking. Somedays, the words simply don't come. Still, I think it important to go throught the exercise; sit, paper and pen in hand and let your mind wander.
Tonight when Walt came in from work, we debated on what to do with the evening: music? a movie? We opted for a quick to run to WalMart for beer (him) and wine (me) and an evening on the deck gazing out over our "postcard." Postcard is what we call our home. The sight off our upper balcony overlooking Lake Ann is very much what you'd find in the postcard rack of any local Walgreens drugstore: the occasional blue heron skimming the lakeshore. The lone fisherman silently trolling his way to the harbor. We milked the remaining strains of daylight afterwhich he retreated to his music studio to compose and I to the library, to write. I logged onto Facebook instead.
Janelle Chandler was online. Janelle and I had been in Ms Trantham's 10th grade English class. We'd just reconnected partially because my 40th class reunion is around the corner and partially because she was always a nice girl and one of the few people I'd remembered from high school. I hadn't talked to Janelle in, well, 39 years.
She answered my chat invitation. For the next hour and a half we laughed about old boyfriends, current interests, marriages, the neighbornood, religion; kids. I laughed and missed my old girlfriend. And my old self.
My 40th class reunion at Sunset High School in Dallas Texas is scheduled for September next year. The class of 1971. It occurred to me tonight that in all the years of researching, I've not documented much about myself. These kids, these adults who knew me when I was 16 and a good student, quiet; who knew me when I was 8 with long legs and curly red hair thigh-deep in the creeks searching for crawdads; who remembered my first crush, my first date: my first heartbreak -- these kids are as important to my family history search as are Andrew and William: and Ellen. Those kids are my life's reminder of its many blessings. Each relative I research brings me closer to something familiar; somthing I recognize within myself and choose to embrace, or to endure.
Tonight's blessing was Janelle.