Initially I thought it
would be a great means of publishing the bevy of personal essays I’d written
over several decades, and, yes, it’s been useful for that, too. These days,
though, I’m more likely to muse spontaneously about whatever is currently happening in my
life.
My blog cannot be
considered a huge success by objective standards. In the eight-plus years I’ve
been writing it, there have been only 100,332 views (as of today at 4:30 p.m.). On the 364
individual posts, a total of 288 comments have been received. It’s hardly one of those Web sites that goes viral. Many topics I’ve written have generated zero response. It was just one old woman rattling on--"let her rip." I hope my kids will read it, but sometimes it's too convoluted or time consuming, even for them. The outpouring of multiple loving and heartfelt comments when I wrote about Jay's death on the blog are still a treasure for me.
Once in a great while, Beats Talking To Myself provides a thrill for me. Not just a happy moment, but a feeling that
transcends whatever rough spots or unpleasantness the week may have held. A feeling that makes my old woman's heart leap with joy. Today I’m going
to recount the two most recent thrilling episodes springing from comments left by readers. These two most recent occurrences still make me so-o-o happy—just thinking about them—that I can barely contain myself in this
narrative.
A little more than two months ago the director of the MacArthur Memorial in Virginia, James Zobel, left a comment on the June 29, 2013, post, “Along the Way—My Great-uncle’s Memoir." James already was aware of Col. William Neill Hughes, Jr.'s relationship with Douglas MacArthur during WWI and became eager to obtain a copy of the memoir. His inquiry made through the blog resulted in two wonderful events: a copy
of Uncle Billy's memoir being made available for the MacArthur archives, and a closer connection between me and my second-cousin, Allene. She is Great-uncle Billy’s granddaughter and beneficiary
of the original memoir. We have enjoyed a Christmas-card
relationship for years, and regularly e-mail. Lately, because of the request for the memoir, we have had reason to chat on the phone. Both of us agree this re-connection through phone conversations has been a
lovely gift.
It’s moments like this that make me determined to
continue blogging. That word—blogging—(or "blog" in any verb form) may not yet be in the dictionary, but it has lots
of meaning for me.
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