It’s been almost a year since my last post on this blog. I’m honestly not sure why it has been so long since I sat down to write. Part of it is probably just that life is so busy…but that’s really a lousy excuse when I really think about it. Life is busy, but we make time for our priorities or for the things that bring us joy. Maybe it’s just the doubts and insecurities have taken over and I think “Nobody really cares about what I have to say.” But, I never really intended to write things for other people, but rather I always wrote for myself – to reflect on this crazy life and to process all the things that happen on a day to day basis. Perhaps the real reason that I haven’t taken the time to blog is just that it’s hard. The last year of life has been hard and I have been having an incredibly hard time understanding the “whys” of life. One of the last blog posts I wrote was shortly after my brother died. It was one of the hardest posts that I have ever written and I remember agonizing about finding the words to express my feelings and to honor him and his life that was cut way too short. Writing has always come so easy for me, but capturing the loss of my brother and sharing that pain in such a raw way was a huge challenge, but also something I truly felt I had to do.
We had dinner with some friends tonight and the wife asked me if I had been blogging lately, because she hadn’t remembered seeing anything I had written. She spoke about how beautiful my blog after my brother’s passing was and how it really touched her. Her words meant so much to me and it made me realize that I truly have missed this platform to share my thoughts. My brother was always so encouraging and supportive of my blog. Often I struggle with the doubts of sharing my writing because I really don’t think that any thoughts or feelings I have are worthy of putting them out there. And so, as we drove home from dinner I thought about all of it and although I felt the urge to sit down and write, I also felt a big emptiness knowing that my brother is not around to read my words. Even typing that just now, it feels weird to have that thought. But that is what is on my heart and mind. I think if I am really honest with myself, I believe there is a bit of guilt in that I get to go on and do the things that I have always done – the things that bring me joy – and he doesn’t. He doesn’t get to sit and paint, or play his guitar and sing his favorite songs.
But…I know that he would want the rest of us left behind to experience all the joy that life has to give…to go on living and loving. And so, I am going to do that. I am going to find my voice again and write what is on my heart as often as I can. Not for the views. Not for the follows. Perhaps not even for myself. I’m going to write again for my brother. I hope that finding my voice again and seeking joy in the little things will make him proud of me. I hope you come along for the ride.
Much love
J
Julie Anne Taylor 