Yes. Today marks the 1000th post at Mother of Brothers since our May 2008 inception, almost six years ago. I’ve been watching my blog dashboard odometer turn for the last few months, reminding myself every week that when it hit 1000, a special post was in order. I have so much I want to say about this blog and what it has meant to me over the years. But first, a few words about a number of others.
I did not write all 1000 of these posts. Those long time followers know that I began this venture with the very talented and eloquent Jennifer Reynolds, whose classy words I have missed on these pages since 2011. We then went “off-message” to bring on the very poignant and prolific Jessie Braun, mother of daughters, who now blogs over at her own amazing site, No Cigarettes, No Bologna. These two wonderful writers not only contributed to the count over the years, but they also inspired me to be the best blogger I could possibly be. Writing can be a lonely endeavor and the value of their camaraderie has been immeasurable.
Like a child, Mothers of Brothers has been a source of tremendous pride, a labor of love, a remarkable joy, a herculean effort, and sometimes a major pain in the ass. It has unequivocally become a part of who I am. I have chronicled much of my life and my perspective here. It is an emotional scrapbook of sorts because for every word that was written, there were hundreds of words that were not. I can read a post from years ago and remember just how I was feeling at the time. I try my best to be transparent in the spirit of honesty, but am also sensitive to TMI. I’m proud of the balance I have kept. At times, I feel my work here is subpar, and when that happens, like gum on the bottom of shoe, it sticks with me for the week. But then I’ll write something that hits a nerve, elicits a laugh, or pulls on a heart string and I’m cured of the doubts as to why I keep blogging – at least for another week.
Therein lies my motivation. People write for all sorts of reasons. I write to resonate. If I can put into words something that someone else has experienced, felt or wanted to say, then I am happy.
When Jennifer and I started MoB, we wanted a place to write unencumbered, about what was important to us. We didn’t want to have to publish based on the whim of an editor. And in this regard, we have been wildly successful. What’s more, this blog has been a platform from which I’ve launched pieces on more widely trafficked publications, sites and broadcasts. And Mothers of Brothers has kept my writing muscle in remarkably good shape – something we bloggers understand all too well.
I lament over the sites antiquated look (it’s soooo 2008) and some really outdated content. I continue to vow that I will undertake a major redesign; but it has yet to happen. I hope the writing – not the design – brings people back. But it is always on my mind. Maybe this year.
And I know there is a book in these pages. That little voice that offers unsolicited advice is constantly reminding me that SOMEONE is going to write MY book if I don’t do it. I do not like this voice or the message it is delivering, but I know it speaks the truth. Maybe this year.
For the past several years, I have been writing on Sunday nights and posting on Monday mornings religiously. Lately, with a new job and two teenage boys, that sometimes feels difficult. I need to give myself permission to deviate from that schedule a bit, but I worry that pushing my writing to every 10 days would be a slippery slope. But perhaps it’s something I should try. Maybe this year.
Among these future “maybes” springs some clarity. Above all else, Mothers of Brothers has brought me love. I have had the chance to meet some amazing readers and fellow bloggers who bring me so much pleasure with their comments and original work. And to every dear friend or family member who pops over to the site or likes on Facebook – thank you. Given how busy everyone finds themselves these days, I am so honored that you would take time to read my words.
The brothers around which this blog is loosely based have nearly doubled in age since I began writing here. To them, along with my husband Dave (aka Surf), I owe the biggest thanks for without them, I have no subject – and I have no life. Write what you know, write what you love. I am so grateful for these protagonists and their graciousness in letting me share pieces of their lives to the world.
Here’s to 1001 and beyond. Thank you all so very much for reading!