You have a story.  It is woven together with all things that make you, you.  Your story is your past, your present, and your dreams.  The thing about a story – your story – is that you are the only one who can tell it.  When you do, and others read it and carry it with them, it is pure magic.

My story is about words and connecting.  It started in a little grey house on 29 Lincoln Avenue in a small southern Indiana town.  It sounds a little bit like this…

My mom could talk on the phone for hours.  She would hold the mustard yellow receiver between her ear and her shoulder and chop vegetables. The cord was at least 25 feet long and it allowed her to go from the stove, to the sink, set the table and do a load or two of laundry, without having to set it down.

Her mother, my grandmother would rather get all gussied up and go visiting. She would put on red lipstick, add a silken flower to her hair, and jump in the car with my papaw.  They always brought small gift on these visits – fresh green beans from the garden or several loaves of bread which were on sale that day at Aldi. She liked to talk at the kitchen table, drink coffee and eat pie.

Hattie, my mother’s grandmother was a letter writer. She sent cards and letters on pretty stationary that smelled like her Youth Dew perfume.  Sometimes, she would tuck a $2.00 bill in those cards.  She wrote almost every day, well into her late 80’s with soft ivory hands and words of grace that went right to your heart.

I pull out my Macbook Pro and write words, too. My words go cyber-fast all over the world in a matter of seconds. I don’t need to put on red lipstick or criss-cross the kitchen with a 25 foot telephone cord.  I pick up my smart phone and Tweet or declare my status to the world. I blog.  It is different, but yet it is the same, too. I connect.  I talk. I share stories, just like they did.

Some people will say there is more romance in letter writing, or something special about a stop by on a Saturday afternoon visit. I think my great grandma would love what I do.  After all, words are words whether they flow from a pen or a keyboard.  The important part is to tell the story of our lives.  I can’t imagine how my girls will share their words.  I can assure you, they have lots to say.  And I’ll make sure, they know they come from a long line of wordy women who paved the way for their stories to impact the world and beyond.

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Blogging for me is about storytelling.  What are the parts of your story that need to be told?

I’d love to hear it, and I know others would, too.

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