See you on Friday!
Hugs

Your writing looks like courage to me. I think courage consists in looking reality in the face -- when possible with equanimity -- when not possible, not -- and keeping on keeping on. We live in a dissembling, turning aside culture most of the time. You don't. Much love and comfort.

Like I said Ronni you have a best selling non fiction book in you!

With great appreciation

Dear Ronni, Since our “comments are like an injection of strength” for you, I would like to add my long overdue comment. Please add my care, kindness and appreciation for you and all that you write! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Ruth Marchese

Ronni, like yourself, journaling is next to breathing for me. When I had a breakdown 30 years ago and attempted suicide at age 46, I threw away all my journals before my almost fatal act. I began journaling again during my fourth mental hospital stay and now I am up to 162 journals, stored under my bed and in my closet. My writing is sometimes profound, sometimes funny, but mostly the day to day stuff of living. I am divorced and have lived alone for almost 30 years; those journals serve as my witness to a life spent trying to figure it all out. In this pandemic they continue to ask similar questions: why all this suffering? how can people be so selfish and stupid? Never mind. They keep me going and I write daily as I drink my morning tea and then look for your essay. I too don't know about courage, as I have often spoken and written publicly about my human struggles, but I do know this practice keeps me sane and I trust it will continue to do the same for you. Thank you for being an authentic voice in this human wilderness.

"A lamp unto my feet," or some such thing, I don't know where it comes from, but you do that for others Ronni, spreading light, shining it into often unseen areas. I'm most grateful, as many others also seem to be.

Somehow, looking at our fears seems to make them more manageable, rather than enlarging them, which is what so many fear. I awoke in terror last week, with the realization that being single and without family, I would need to arrange for my body after I died. "I don't know how to do this!" Then "Just forget it, my soul will be gone anyway, let whatever happens happen." But no, althought this body and I have had our differences, it has ferried me through 77 years, and deserves, at least, respect. So the next morning I called a crematorium and talked with Christopher, who sounded like maybe he'd died already. Anyway, fear arises, if we can befriend it, it has much to teach us. For this life and transitioning to whatever comes next.

Ronni,
Your blog is one of the most enjoyable parts of my week. You have been living with such openness during this time. You make me think. Although we have never met I feel as if you are a friend. When you are no longer with us I will grieve and carry your memory in my heart. I am not ready to do that yet. Hang in to achieve your goal of voting. ❤️❤️❤️

Whenever there is an issue in my life that I don't understand, I write about it. My daughter, when living at home, said I talk things to death. Well, maybe...and if I can't talk, I will write, and perhaps do both because in writing it all out, I'm able to better vocalize my feelings.

As I tell other friends, keep writing...

Regarding Ronni's quote: "Is there a place where life and death and meaning at least intersect if not each become part of a whole"? R. Bennett

In yesterday's local paper was posted this one, which is remarkable similar in meaning:

"Every moment one lives is different from the other. The good, the bad, hardship, the joy, the tragedy, love, and happiness are all interwoven into one single indescribable whole that is called life. You cannot separate the good from the bad. And perhaps there is no need to do so, either."
Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis (1929-1994)
Ronni says it more succinctly!

As a child I was taught to
S how what you've discovered/acquired
H elp others succeed
A ccept and Adapt other points of view and ways of doing things
R each out and not hoard
E ncourage and educate
that's been my mantra ever since, and obviously it is yours, too

So thank you for your generous and unselfish sharing!

I’m curious what you (and others) plan to do with your journals. Of course, if we die suddenly we may have no choice, but I find myself thinking more about what to do with them. I’m not sure I’d want anyone reading them, but is there a point when to dispose of them?

Laurel, I find myself thinking about your question more and more. I have provided for my many journals to go to my granddaughter after my death, but am now thinking she will not be interested in them. The smart thing to do is ditch them, right? But when? I still don't have the answer, but thanks for sharing the question.

Salinda, glad to hear you've finally made arrangements for your body after death. Always love your black humor.

Ronni, I am so glad that you are here.

Luci

We don't always agree on the "glories" of old age, but you're a heckuva writer, Ronni!
Many of your readers/commenters are pretty eloquent as well. I wrote a lot in my teenage years, I suppose partially as a coping mechanism for being excluded and bullied. I threw all those journals away when I went off to college. The plan was to start a whole new life with a whole new me, which actually worked (more or less). Drum roll, please: the "Party Girl" was born! She stuck around for the next 20 years or so.

I wrote again in my 40s when I had gotten my life back on track and accepted that I really am a natural introvert and that's O.K., but then stopped and never restarted. There wasn't enough time what with a new marriage, grad school and working 60+ hours/week. I did a LOT of writing on my job, too.

I have plenty of time these days but not much to say especially now that I don't go anywhere (except the grocery store pickup lane) and see almost no one other than my husband--for whom I'm infinitely grateful. I'm in pretty much the same place as many others in our age group, and they put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) better than I could.

My spouse and I decided on disposition of our bodies 30 years ago and bought a prepaid cremation plan. Our urns are stashed in an out-of-the-way cabinet. We haven't quite decided what should be done with the ashes, though, and we need to do that.

That is exactly how I feel about writing. I discover how I feel. Thank you for saying it so succinctly.

Thank you so much, Ronni. Your blog means so much to me. Yes, you have a generous spirit. A very generous and loving spirit. I am grateful for you.

I have looked forward to your posts reading them more than once for many years. I rarely comment but just need you to know how very much they mean to me. Your writings always teach me something - the wonderful people who do comment always give me even more to think about. At 80 I have needed your words so many times as I become old. You and the people that follow you are always on my grateful list. Thank you Ronni for sharing yourself with us all xo