Please – Leave Comments

You can ask any blogger and they will tell you at some point they wondered if anyone was reading their posts.  Just like the scene from Julie and Julia where Amy Adams ponders this very question, sees a comment on a post and but then realizes that it is from her Mother!  I’ve certainly felt that way.  I always make a point to leave a comment, make a suggestion, etc. when I do read other posts. It’s my way of showing some love for the blogger who probably spent hours typing away in the middle of the night, eating leftovers dark chocolate all the while simultaneously shopping Barney’s on-line sale.  But sometimes a reader leaves you a little gem that brightens your day and puts an enormous smile on your face.  Kinda like the one below that arrived on the post I wrote about my Dad on his birthday.

I was online and decided to google my two favorites cousins whom I had not seen since 1989. I was so saddened to find Joe’s obituary but brightened by your birthday tribute. Joe’s grandmother Cuma was my dad Victor’s sister. Bill and Joe and I raised ornery to a new level when we first met around age 10 or younger. I absolutely loved those guys and the fun we had. We once each came up with the dirtiest words we knew then Joe was going to tell on Bill and me. We clamped our hand on his mouth and ran from the house laughing.

I did not see them from the time I was 16 until I stopped in Carlise when I was 45. It was as if time had not passed and we laughed and teased each other and had a great visit. Another 26 years have passed and I still think about them often. That is what led me to google them.

Your words on his birthday touched my heart and made me so happy to have found them. Your dad made me laugh every time I ever saw him. I will forever be holding rabbit ears behind his head in his pictures in heaven.
Gail Friend, Naples, FL and Danbury, IA

Had it not been for my blog post, a curious cousin Googling his relatives in Arkansas would have never known about his ornery cousin’s untimely passing. I also wouldn’t have this gem of a photo of my great uncle Victor Friend.

My dapper great uncle Friend.

My dapper great uncle Victor Friend.

So on days when I think maybe I’ll stop writing about travels, New York City, crap my ex is doing, raising kids and skin care, I’ll remind myself that people are reading my posts,  even long lost relatives with great memories of my Dad.