I had an earlier blog - unpublished. A garden journal, project log, recipe collection and history of eldercare experiences. Flowers and food were my safety nets - distractions that kept long-term responsibility for elderly parents from taking over completely. Parkinson’s, strokes, senility, death - I tried to keep these in a separate box. One with a lid.
I still have all those entries - so many important words - but five years have passed and my parents are both gone. We celebrated my mother's release in November - just three months ago. It's time to move forward, but I've been standing still for such a long time, and the lid has come off the box. There are things I'd like to do, things that are still important, things I love - I know this. But I also know that none of it matters. None of it. This is the lesson inside the box. My task? My task now is to think - and live - outside that box.
The American Sentence encourages me to take note of things that matter - right now - without giving them too much importance. Seventeen syllables is just enough.
