Forty three
My sister told me I should blog again. A lot has happened since I did this thing - I'm a little rusty. In the last few years, I've sort of relinquished the dream of being a writer - like, a real writer, not a hobby writer - and so the act of writing became...less. Less important, less often, less satisfying. It's an instrument out of tune. Why relinquish the dream? Life got busy. A lot has changed. In the 5 years since I blogged regularly: My son graduated high school and went on a two year mission for our church. My daughter turned 12, 13, 14, and 15. Fifteen! We moved a couple of times. Trump became president. I got a job and started teaching, then principal-ing and now director-ing. I'm buried in it right now. My brothers both moved away. A pandemic. My parents moved away (just last week, after a long time planning). And lots of other small and big moments, mashed together in a blur. Now here I am, still trying to figure me out. I used to think that whe