Every story is greater than the author

It’s amazing what blogging does. It connects people. I don’t know if people think about it everyday, or if it’s just something that’s a passing thought. There are millions of bloggers out there, each one telling their own story. Their own journey, the path they’ve chosen. It allows you to connect to those who are traveling the same road you are, or peek into the life of someone who picked a different one. Whether the story is of a person trying to find true love, or struggle to create life; a story of surviving life, surviving depression, surviving abuse. There are stories of mom’s who are trying to find a balance of work and family, or father’s who are taking care of their kids, or just moms who are moms, trying to find where they fit in the scheme of things and help their babies find their place too. Millions of stories. And some stories that just knock you on your ass.

My family is blessed. And not just my singular family, my whole family. My parents had five children, all healthy and beautiful and full of life. Each one of their children have at least one child, some have two or more, totaling the number to thirteen. Thirteen babies from age 12 (if I remember correctly) to one. And another one the way, and another shortly after him. By the end of this year there will, hopefully, be at least 15 grandchildren for my parents, each one healthy and beautiful and full of life.

I was clicking blogs and being linked to other blogs here and there and everywhere, and more than once I saw this one being linked. Bloggers telling their readers to go read that story, to find a way to help.
I clicked.
I read.
I cried.
I was touched, I donated, I wanted to shave my head, I cried some more.

It’s easy to get caught up in minuscule things and to dramatize them. It’s easy and it’s not wrong to do, everyone does it, there is no shame. It’s okay. But sometimes you have to sit back and have someone put what’s really important in perspective for you, and it’s okay to be knocked on your ass by it.

What’s important to me? Two healthy parents. Four healthy siblings and significant others. Twelve healthy, beautiful nieces and nephews. A healthy, loving husband. A beautiful, healthy baby girl and a growing, healthy baby boy.

It’s okay to get caught up and run over by life, but please, every now and then, stop and remember the most important things.


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