Monday, March 31, 2014

One year plus one day since...

...I have posted here on my blog. It seems uncanny that the very day I decide to return to my blog and make an effort to remain consistent with it, I find that my last post here was exactly one year plus one day ago.

I think I'm finally finding my new voice.

Some of my readers may remember my old voice, the voice of a long-time horse-breaker and confident ranch wife. The proud mother of a ranch kid and gifted pilot and a teacher of my son's homeschool program. A singer with a little trio of strong women who played and sang bluegrass gospel; and a Cowboy Poet, one who had seen much of the genre as it began, grew and flourished. One who presented her poetry often, sensing that her value lay in her authenticity as a cowboy who drew cowboy wages and who, well, loved every minute of it.

This year, April 9, 2014 will mark the tenth anniversary since much of the voice which gave me confidence and comfort became lost to me. Over those years, I also experienced, in powerful emotions, the loss of my identity as day after day became week upon week, months and years until now, a decade.

It seems amazing to me that so many years have passed since my life suddenly changed in ways I had no way of conceiving. Where did that decade go? Ten years ago, I was a strong, tanned, thin and active, young 52 years old. Today, I am 62, and, on a good day, I feel as though I am 80. My abilities have changed dramatically. Something unexpected in life happened to me, and thus, I became unable to do most of the things that had been of utmost importance to me.

Over the years, this blog became a friend to me; it afforded me a way to put words to the battles I was waging, the changes I had no control over, and the challenges I have had with accepting my new life. Although a full year has flown by since visiting here, I still thought of this blog many times and was always blessed with the confidence that the things I experienced during my ongoing "recovery" had been documented and remained.

A new voice remains. And I'm anxious to try it out.