a rainy evening chat

I don’t have much to say.  It’s been raining pretty non-stop today.  Have just been puttering around eating fudge, sipping tea and writing.  It’s going slow, but forward, so I’m feeling relatively content. 

I can’t believe that Will is in his last week of grade 11 classes.  After that, a week of exams.  Then he’s off for summer vacation and Don and I will have to get used to a quieter house.  Grade 12 next year.  Where does the time go? 

If I get to live to be 72, then I am already 2/3’s of the way through my life. 

I guess that’s the overall thing that is on my mind.  Am I using my time wisely.  Wanting to make sure I am not squandering the days. 

For a while it made me want to lock myself in my room and write like a woman possessed.  But I seem to be backing away a bit.  Releasing the tight grip.  I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing or if it is neither.  But, I want to make sure that I don’t forget to leave myself some leisure time.  Daydreaming time.  Wandering around the house and yard time.  Making fudge time.  (By the way, the fudge was very good.  We will probably finish up the last of it by mid-day tomorrow.) I want to make sure that I am allowing balance to be present in my life, not always having to accomplish and strive to be more, better, write deeper. 

In twenty years from now, my movies won’t be playing on cable anymore.  Most of them you can’t even rent in the video stores.  Video itself is getting phased out.  In twenty years from now, none of the bookstores will be selling my books, no matter how much people love them today.  And the libraries will have cleared them from their shelves to make way for new books, by new writers, or the better old ones. 

So, how do I want to spend my time.  How much do I have left?  Will I be able to let go gracefully when my time comes, or will I be terrified and fighting and scratching and clinging on for dear life.  And what happens to me when I’m gone?  What happens to the person I’ve worked so hard to uncover?  Does it all just disappear?  Does ones essence linger on?  Is there awareness after one passes?  Or is it nothing?  Just gone?  Will my children know how much I loved them?  Or will they be sad, but relieved as well?  Have I been a good mother?  If so, will I continue to be one?  If not, why?  It’s not for lack of trying.  But maybe all that trying and love is crippling, stifling?  I don’t know.  I just hope my children know, now and forever, that they are loved.  Will always be loved, whether I am with them or not.

Now, this is the interesting thing about blogging.  I never would have guessed that this was what was going to come out when I sat down to say hello.  I figured I’d chat a little about this and that.  A couple of sentences and then sign off.  Oh well, up it goes.  Have a good night everybody. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, June 03, 2008 in Chewing the Fat

Page 1 of 1 pages