I’m already pretty satisfied with my blog’s name and tagline so I won’t be tweaking those, at least not now. However, today’s Blogging 101 assignment triggered a memory that’s worth sharing … or not – your mileage may vary.
Many moons ago I was a regular churchgoer. It was my lifeline in the midst of a bad marriage. The family I found there were loving and supportive. It was a family of families if you get my meaning. The pastor and his wife and son were the heads of our tiny congregation and my very best friends. The pianist/choir director/Sunday school teacher was my next bestest friend back then. Loretta could always bring a smile to your face. And her hugs? Oh my God (no pun intended)!
I remember Loretta explaining how she taught her children their address when they were very young. The family lived on a street called Sayre. Loretta made a game of it and taught them the number of their house and then had them recite, “Say your street” until they remembered it on their own.
When I saw “Say Your Name” this morning it was sort of bittersweet. On the one hand it made me feel all fuzzy and warm; on the other, I’ve lost touch with all of those dear friends, and my pastor and his wife are gone now. There’s a hole in my life that they used to fill and I think I’m still trying to find something to fit there; maybe nothing will exactly. Maybe I’m not supposed to fill it.
What do you think, Dear Reader?