The Power of Words

I continue to grow in respect and appreciation for the gift of writing. I can not tell you precisely when I first recognized what written words could do. I once happened upon a journal from when I was first beginning to write. I was impressed by how quickly two or three words grew into sentences and stories.

My first true romance was with poetry and lyrics. Appearances caught my attention. Emotions and rhythm kept me captivated. My older brother lovingly convinced me that I couldn’t sing. So, logically, I wrote.
I don’t think I would have survived teenhood without my notebooks and all the scraps of paper that I wrote upon. Writing was my therapy, escape, and means of connecting. It helped me express every facet of each emotion, ruminate over decisions, analyze events, and put into play life-altering choices.

Pen and paper are readily available and inexpensive. Likely you have received many of both as swag, promotional freebies. How oft we overlook the power of the ever present, simple things.

As of late I am reminded why I must write. No, it is not a choice. It is a need. For all that writing has done for me; I need to reciprocate in kind. I must give back at least what I have taken. Yes, it is the business writing that pays the bills, but creative writing is the salve of the soul.

What moves me to this recent growth and appreciation? I’m so appreciative of a recent gift. I dare say when I last received its equal. A book. Not just any book, but memoirs from my maternal grandmother. How I devoured every word.

My 100% Irish, Catholic grandmother who raised 11 children took me from her first childhood memories to today, at 84 years of age. And I’m reminded why I write, why I need to really write. How many lives were touched by the stories of her late husband, her world travels, and caring for all those kids.

After completing the book I placed it prominently on my bookshelf. It is sure to be read over and over. I’m also sure I will have more questions for my mother after each time I read it (until now I thought she was perfect). I hope my mom writes like that some day. I know her grandchildren (7 so far) will enjoy her story. I hope someday, someone enjoys mine.