Today I received a voicemail from my older brother.
He said that he was having a bad day last week and had a few minutes to read some of my blog posts during his lunch, and that one in particular helped him in that moment.
There it is. Right there.
Exactly why I write.
I enjoy writing. I appreciate processing the things I believe in, experiences I have learned from, or questions I have. An idea starts to flicker and I become very curious how the idea could translate into a written piece. It is fun working through that process, and sometimes the idea develops into something worth posting and sometimes it doesn’t.
Actually, I am finding that I love it. Especially after listening to that voicemail.
Today when I was listening to my brother’s voicemail, the smile on my face spread bigger and bigger. I can actually help this man who I have always looked up to, who has taught me so much? This older brother whose main mission in life at times has appeared to be to torment me?
I mean, this guy knows me as an insecure little girl, a whiner, a rebel, jealous of his successes–he has seen much more than someone who knows me as a professional adult. If he can read what I write and have it lift him up in a moment when he needs it, my mission is more than accomplished. I have surpassed what I thought my writing could do.
For so many reasons, thank you for that voicemail Todd. For I didn’t even know I was writing for you, but for you I will write!