At the age of 12, my older sister, Shirley, bought me my first diary. It had a lock and key which totally fascinated me because I could write down anything I wanted and nobody could read it unless they had they key. I still have that diary and trust me, nobody would want to read it! My darkest secret at that age was how I hated to wash the dishes.
That diary, however, led to a lifetime of writing. I love to write and writing has gotten me through the worst times in my life. I am not a real writer. I am a fake writer but that doesn’t matter! When I lost my oldest son, Ryan, almost five years ago to suicide by a cocaine overdose, I did not think I would survive. A friend brought me a notebook and pen so that I could “write stuff down”. I didn’t think I would be able to write anything ever again and when I first picked up that pen, my hand shook as I tried to write down a few things that had happened and how I was feeling. Actually, when your hands are shaking, it’s sometimes easier to type than to write!
Anyway, it seems that everyone is blogging now adays, so I am going to give it a whirl and hopefully, there will be some people out there somewhere who will be interested in what I have to say! Here’s to writing!