A few hours ago I learned that something I had written had been of no little value to a young member of my family and also - much to my surprise - to one of her friends. This was in the wake of having given this wonderful young person a different piece of my writing and having found her profoundly moved by it.
She's not the only one moved. I find myself humbled, emotional, fulfilled and rewarded all at the same time. I feel a quiet elation, a gentle but definite sense of achievement. I hope you don't mind if I tell you why - I'll be brief because it's late and I'm very tired.
The thing is, I write for my children. I began writing stories, memoirs and blogs just a couple of years ago, and I began because I want my children to have something of me after I've ended my time on this pale blue dot. I want them to know me. Speaking with my daughter this evening and discovering that my writing has moved her is a moment that I won't easily forget. Unwittingly, she has shone a loving light upon my work, given it fresh impetus and at the same time affirmed my goal and my intention to keep going.
It's a rare thing for me to recognize a job well done, when I'm the one doing it, but this time I'm allowing the feeling to permeate and embrace me. It's good, I like it. Reaching out and successfully touching the heart of someone I love is an amazing feeling. I hope to do more and more of it, and I hope to touch others through my writing, but in many ways it's all good; everything from now on is just going to be gravy...