Words

 When I take a moment to realize how blessed I am, the moment becomes much more. I can talk about all those I love and who love me in return, and I smile with every passing thought.

There are so many stories to share, and I must endure equal amounts of sadness that flow from my pen to a tear-stained paper. But it's not all sadness—far from it. As I reach into my memories and pull out countless times spent with family and friends, it brings me great pleasure, and thanks for the many memories that will stay with me as so many disappear into the light.

A long time ago, I knew my writing would have a purpose, and one day, it hit me that words were my tool to share my thoughts and express my feelings in a way that others couldn't. I felt blessed.

I've asked myself why I write what I do, and my conclusion was that words have to be spoken through song, speech, or expression. You can't keep words bottled up if you have been blessed with the ability to share them. What I wrote touched a nerve or two and brought a smile or a tear, but more importantly, I awoke a memory for the reader.

Books may have lost their appeal to some with the advancement of digital and audiobooks and a thousand publishing websites eager to tell you your work will make a great Netflix movie—all for just twelve hundred dollars. However, millions of people worldwide still enjoy curling up in their favorite chair and opening a new book, as the smell fills your senses like nothing else, well, maybe fresh-cut grass.

I'll always keep writing without concern about whether people will even read it. I write because I love to, and that's all that matters to me.

Mike 2025