Voice Blog

I still don't think this is going to work very well. I also know that my handwritten journals, what's left of them, are scattered everywhere and for the most part illegible and likely uninteresting. In fact, if any of them are found they should probably given to my cousin Michelle who is likely the only one who might appreciate them. Typing on my phone and speaking neither sound or feel real to me. Or maybe I just really have nothing to say, maybe I'm just fooling myself that I have anything left to leave till the following generation. I know that I am very ill and very weak and very likely in the last years of my life. I also know but I am quickly forgetting everything I ever wanted to say about my life. Not a great way to leave a message for anyone. I largely feel that I have failed at so many things that I want thought I was succeeding at. I actually thought that I was a good mother to my children. I believe I can honestly say that I never made a decision about them that...

 I mentioned many times how much I love the feel of pen on paper. I love to write. But as I look at the few old journals that I still have I realize they are illegible to anyone but me and I also believe no one will actually ever read them. Not only that, I have arthritis in my hands now that limit how much I can write and I don't think it's going to progressively get any better. I have always held with the belief that the pen in my hand and the paper I am writing on or somehow magical, that they brought out a muse that didn't exist in the speaking world. Here I'm going to try to find out whether or not that is true. I'm going to start with something that has been difficult to either to put on paper, or put into any words at all. What happened to my marriage to Steve? The end was nothing less than a messy disaster. Once upon a time I could have listed everything during the seven years preceding the end that had led up to it. Now I find with fading memory much of it ...