Will I get an award? A cheque?
I can’t believe I’ve kept this up for two years now. Can’t believe I’ve had so much to say.
I talked about the divorce and abandonment that nearly killed me 20 years ago. Writing about it healed me and made me stronger, more myself.
I wrote about my parents, talked about the good and the so very bad. It helped me reconcile with them, to forgive them, to give my soul some peace.
I wrote about passages. The events that defined my life. About the death of the lovely Hannah.
… and the birth of the beautiful Skylar.
I prefer to write about those in the land of the living. I can’t take too many more tragedies.
I wrote about my kids, my husband — I hope they forgive me for spilling family secrets. Look at it this way, kids. Now, there’s a history. When I’m dead, you can go out into the cyberverse and spend some time with me. I will always be there.
I wrote about my quest to get better and tackle my health care challenges. It has helped me re-affirm my commitment to stay in this world a little longer, a little stronger and in a shell that shows the best of me. I want to look good for my age. That’s all.
I wrote about celebrities, my government, injustice, sadness, love, victories, failures.
This blog gave me a platform.
It gave me a voice.
It helped me discover who was under the firefighter t-shirt.
I am grateful to live in a country that allows me to say what I think.
I am worried that the present government is bound to take my freedom away.
To spy on me.
To invade my space.
Vic Toews, turn off your computer. Get a fucking life and stay out of mine.
I have loved being a blogger.
I will do this as long as I’m able.
And I will be grateful if I can continue to do it every day.
Thanks to the 114,000 people who read my blog over the past two years. Merci for being my blogging friends.