I post the easy

It’s Thursday night. The house is silent. I am alone with five others. They are sleeping. I am glad.

What did one introvert say to the other? Nothing.

*groan*

I am a jobless writer. That which I want to say I can’t. Or I don’t. Or I won’t.

So I post thoughts about a plethora of things that don’t matter.

Because I like to write. Except when I have to think about really hard stuff. And then I don’t like to write.

Katie drew the dancer on the driveway. I didn’t even see her do it.

And now it’s raining and she will disappear.

The dancer, not Katie.

And the rain, we’ve needed it for so long. So long.

But the disappearing dancer makes me sad.

And I can’t really say exactly why. Or I don’t. Or I won’t.

Instead I post the easy.

It seemed easier to write about stuff with the kids were younger.

Anecdotal stuff. The stuff of life.

They are growing up. We hurt each other with our words, with our actions.

And the stuff of life now is that we sin. We forgive and we love. We cry.

It’s not so easy writing about that.

I respect my kids’ privacy.

And so the things I used to say I really can’t anymore. Or I don’t. Or I won’t.

Instead I post the easy.

And my mom, with her ALS.

I don’t like to think about it. It hurts too. stinking. much.

So I run. I really, literally run. I run so I don’t have to feel pain or endure the chaos for 45 minutes because all I can think about for those 45 minutes is how much I hate running.

And yet I love running because it makes me forget everything else.

And I can’t really talk about that here. Or I don’t. Or I won’t.

Instead…I post the easy.

11 thoughts on “I post the easy

  1. Sandy Dolan says:

    This introvert finds a bit of peace in knowing there’s another one who’s braver than she thinks she is and whose half-funny-half -sad *easy* post makes her cry (but in the good way). Thanks, Megan, for this.

    Like

  2. Jess says:

    I’m with you. It’s so hard to write without an audience – to force myself to write and process without anywhere to share it. Maybe I’ll write just you a letter where I write though a few of the uglier issues and you can write me back. 🙂 Love you.

    Like

  3. Abbie says:

    I cried when I read this. I actually cried. Maybe because I was thinking some of the same thoughts about the disappearing drawings here at my home that I discovered when I went outside alone yesterday evening to just breathe in the cool, crisp air and reflect on some of the mistakes and heartbreaks that had come with the day. Maybe because I have come to endear Nana, even though I have never met her, because of your precious Katie and I actually pray for her often and I hate the pain that the sickness is bringing to all of your hearts. Maybe because you are a good writer and anyone could have related with your writings. Whatever the reason, I cried.
    May the Lord give you peace today and may He wrap you in his love.

    Like

  4. Pingback: January 4, 2013

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