No One Listens

So why do I do this anyway. Why do I open this foolish page and hope for a hit...someone listened, some one cared. So last night after service, there were three of us, talking. Only no one listened to me. I'm this old grandma type I guess. I can't seem to get a word in edgewise (what does that expression mean? I teach english, I should know). I've been keeping prayer journals for over 25 years. Even I hate to re-read the old ones. What is the use of writing all those words? What is the use of writing all these words? My great grandmother kept diarys for 70 years. My mother almost threw them away, but I stopped her. Some of them were written in pencil are are hard to read. But I'm keeping them anyway. My birth is recorded in the 1952 one. The painful death of her sister is recorded as is the death of her lover, and how his wife called her, and asked her to come to his death bed...that's the stuff mini series are made of. Her son, my great uncle, he must be about 80, found out I had them and asked me to send them to him. I guess they really blessed him, but he sent them back, along with a bunch of pictures of people I never knew. He appointed me keeper of the past, but who cares? So, why do I do this. I think I'll take a break. I'll stick to my pen and prayer journal for a while. This blogging has become as additive as spider solitare. But I won't quit altogether, because when someone does listen, when someone does make a comment, it makes this old grandma feel like my voice can be heard. And someone does listen.