Our Stories

I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve thought about returning to this little blog over the past few years.  These thoughts are always hastily put on hold because a girl who can’t even find the time to perform the rites of basic grooming does not have the time to blab into the ether. But, despite the fact that my hair remains unkempt and I have yet to tend to those pesky stray eyebrow hairs, the desire to write always creeps back in.

Lately, I’ve been asking my neighbor, a curmudgeon in his mid-seventies, to tell me a little more about his life.  I’ve pushed for some insight into his experiences as a boy from a working class family in Boston, fresh from the service, who found himself on the Berkeley campus smack dab in the middle of the free speech movement. What comes back usually does so in fragments:  self-absorbed rich kids.

Despite his reticence, I approach from different angles.  Did you ever want to get married? Did you ever think about having kids? It doesn’t really matter to me that he barely answers. Because in the asking I am actually trying to tell him that his life is significant.  I want to say to him that it doesn’t matter to me what his social status is or has ever been.  Everyone has stories and every one of those stories is an access road into the fundamental meaning of the human experience.  I simply want him to know that his stories matter.

And so, it has recently occurred to me, do mine.


7 thoughts on “Our Stories

  1. Yes. Even the ones about non-grooming. Because that is part of the tapestry of life, and not hearing those stories means we’re pretending that part doesn’t exist.

    1. Hi Justine! Yes. You are absolutely right. The truth is that there have been so many things competing for the little time I could possibly carve out for so long and I believe that the lack of sleep was what really got me. Our 2.5 year old has gotten much better (still sleeping through the night only rarely, though) and I feel like the world has really started to open up. The grooming, it seems, happens to fall fairly low on my priority list ;).

    1. Thanks J! I miss your stories too but can only imagine how going back to work has affected your flex time. Still, if you ever do have the time and inclination, I would be so interested in hearing your thoughts on the transition from SAHM to juggling employment and motherhood, especially as I begin to tackle the possibilities myself.

  2. Pingback: Before… | Too Many Fish to Fry

  3. OH! I am so glad to hear your voice! I unsubscribe when people go quiet for too long because I have some weird need to keep my list of blogs as short as possible. Even when it really doesn’t matter. I think it feels like a junk drawer and I have to get rid of every bent paperclip and dried out rubberband. And then when a used up pen turns out to be just what I needed to perform an emergency tracheotomy, I am screwed.

    Yes. I think it’s hard to imagine the minutiae of our lives or our passing thoughts could be interesting to others…but if they weren’t, there would be no fiction. People love hearing about people and I particularly love hearing about you.

  4. I don’t blame you at all for pruning your blog list. I’m so glad that you are back, though! I didn’t realize how much I missed blogging until I came back to it.

    I imagine that life is going to be, ahem, a bit chaotic in the coming months and years at the bunny hutch but I hope that you’ll find a way to write your way through it since I especially enjoy your stories as well!

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