Writing Naked

It has been almost 5 years since my Mother died of Cancer.

In the time leading up to her death and after, I wrote. I wrote in notebooks, on napkins, on bits of paper, and on the back of magazine covers. Writing was how I survived.

All of these thoughts sat in a shoe box, until a few days ago. A new friend unknowingly inspired me to put my paper scraps and journals to use.

His blog demonstrates self-expression, and he recently challenged his readers to create something that was uniquely their own. Being unique and different is a hard sell in a world full of remakes and rewinds. Everyone has a blog, a Twitter account, ad nauseum. All this to say that I decided that I am up for the challenge: I am creating a place to house the memories of my mother, good, bad, hilarious and heartbreaking. Because I need to put those thoughts somewhere and she deserves a documented memory.

I feel like there should be a disclaimer here, because normally I’m a pretty funny person. I find humor in everything. EVERYTHING. That being said, life is what it is, and not everything is a laugh riot. All the same, my Mother was a hilariously funny woman, and it is hard to tell her story without the funny pieces. It’s just that the content of this blog is a side of me few people have seen. Writing this all out, and sharing it…well, I feel a little naked. Good thing I shaved my legs.