We're all just walking each other home

I had an enlightening conversation with my sister, husband and brother-in-law the other day. Vince, the forever entrepreneur, told me he could help me make money off my blog. Dorsey was all for that!

I said, "You mean, the $13.77 I've earned so far isn't good enough?" (Seriously, click on my Google-provided ads ... I earn a cent or two per click.)

He said "real" money. Then my sister said, "But her blog is about us, about our family. Only people who know us care about it. How could it make money?"

"It's about aging gracefully (that's not really graceful)," Vince said.

"She's had a little of that, but it's mostly about us," Kim said.

And I was just listening, unable to get a word in edgewise. I was thinking, "Really? Is that all this blog is — just a story of our family drama?"

I sincerely hope this blog is more than that — especially because these days, I hate unnecessary drama. Drama days for me are OVER. (How was that for a dramatic presentation?) Drama is one of those ungraceful things we do as teenagers and even, unfortunately, as adults while we figure out who and what we want to be. I've been there and done that ad nauseam, and I'm finished. It's a life I'm not at all proud of.


Because I'm mostly all grown up now :-) , I crave what's real and genuine. I want people in my life who are actively participating in my family's life and mine. That's the way it is now.  Those people are the top 10 percent of the 10-80-10 rule in my life. I am so grateful for them. It's been a great attitude for a drama-free life. We only need people in our lives who actively support us and our well-being.

So instead of drama, my intention with this blog — besides writing practice and therapy for me — is to provide a good look at a real-life story. While I understand most people reading this know us and care about my parents, and I know they want the updates, my original intention was to give a peek into this whole ungracefully aging process and all of its troubles, pain, blessings and realities.

Most of us will, at some point, experience caring for aging parents; most of us also will be aging parents.  I can hope that because we're all getting old and experiencing many of the same things, you relate. So many of you have come forward to say, "Yes, I went through that, too," or "Thank you for sharing your story."

That tells me and others currently living through this season of life we are not alone. That we, too, will survive ... probably even thrive. That we will experience pain and blessings and healing we never believed possible. That we will see a side of life that forever changes our perspectives of the world, of life, and of people and relationships.

The fact is, the ungraceful part of aging is all the silly and stupid and even shameful things we do on our life's paths. I believe we all are just doing our best to figure life out — and some do it better than others.

Because we are human, I also believe most of us do a mighty fine job of making things messy. Caregiving and the emotions that accompany it are messy. My life has been messy. I'm messy.

I have been terribly ungraceful as I've aged.

Oh. Well. Maybe you can relate or learn from my messiness.

All that messy drama and misfortune put me right here, right now. I finally appreciate my life and everything my lack of grace has taught me. I am exactly where I need to be at this time. It's all good, although plenty painful at times because I can't stand to see my parents suffer.

I've said this many, many times: No one lives in a vacuum. We interact with one another, we watch one another, we live side by side with one another. So we might as well learn from one another, and then learn to do better for ourselves and for others.

If by some chance I make money off my blog (that's a big ha!), I could go for that. But I'm perfectly OK with swapping stories.

So tell me where you've been, too. Life becomes much more worthwhile to know, understand and feel we are not alone. Life grows more meaningful when we realize that in the end, we are all just "walking each other home."

Walk with me.