My life is made up of everything I have done, and as I walk along my chosen paths, my footprints will  chart a map of my journey.....

The Stories We Tell

A little more than one year ago, I started writing this blog - Footprints Of Life -  with the intent and hope that I would be able, through my writing, to leave a legacy of memories to my children and grandchildren. Through my writing, within this blog and with the publication of two books, I have continued to learn a lot about myself, my life and my 'footprints'.

As I have travelled along my life journey my footprints have chosen my path, and they have left behind them glimpses of moments and experiences and people - people whose footprints have also guided me -  that tell my unique story, and as I study these footprints, I continually wonder what they will reveal to others. At each crossroad that I have faced I have left a unique trail behind me. Just as a fingerprint, each footprint, if followed closely, is 'encoded' with all sorts of information that identifies who I am, what I do, and where I've been. I leave these footprints on whatever path I walk, and with 'silent words' my footprints tell a story - my story. Admittedly, my footprints have the potential to tell the whole story, however, without my written word, they can really only relate parts of the larger story.   

As I have trudged, walked, or run through life, leaving footprints down one path or another, choosing my own unique direction, experiencing success and failure, happiness and sadness, each step I have taken has left footprints of memories - some good and some bad. My stories, through my written word, are made of all kinds of memories - childhood memories, incident memories, 'fictional' memories, and factual memories - and each retelling of a particular memory, be it in story or poem format, adds to the tapestry of my life. Sometimes, returning to the locale of the memory, as in retracing my footprints, I can fill in the background and physical features, and so a story is born.

Most footprints, in time, are blown away by the wind, but memory can make them remain, etched into our minds and heart and souls. Therefore memories are the fabric of which my stories are made - stories worth telling, as they will hopefully leave my footprints on the minds and hearts and souls  of my children and my grandchildren, and they, as with others with whom I have chosen to share my journey, however brief or lasting their stay, will have a deeper understanding and realization of who I was, what my passions were, what I believed in. But, more importantly, they will learn, and be able to verify, that my relationships with them were very special and that I did my best, regardless of the stumbles and bumps along the way, to learn, to teach, to nurture and to love. Their memories can then be filled with my footprints - my legacy to them forever.