just a thought

 And I often wonder, where the story goes. If I were a songwriter that is the hook I might use. Every song has a hook, at least that is what I read somewhere. I certainly haven't studied such things as writing songs, books or novels. I guess that is what journalism students do. Apparently there are rules for all of that, we tend to make rules for everything. Strangely however there are times when something breaks the rules and that is celebrated. That is when we say, it's cutting edge. It's breaking new ground and a few other old clichés. Strange too, when I do that, it isn't. Still hoping for that one hit wonder I suppose. And that is another thing. How long before something becomes a one hit wonder? I'm guessing until the person responsible passes away, another hit is a possibility. 

 I don't know, that thought just came to mind as I sat down to compose this mornings' blog. Google says a blog is informational or a discussion, often in the style of a diary. Yeah I guess that is what I am writing most of the time. My "information" is often questioned, disputed or disparaged, and that's fine. My discussion is with myself and so I get no arguments there. I do get others that insist my discussion is filled with incorrect information though. I have to say, seldom does that change where the story goes. And that is what I was thinking about, where the story goes after I'm gone. I think some of that thinking stems from having witnessed the passing of family and friends. That is something that happens to all of us over time. It's the part of aging often overlooked when you are young. As you grow concerned with losing your youthful vitality and looks, you don't think about losing ones that came before you. It is only when you begin telling their stories that the realization of mortality hits you and you begin to understand. When someone is telling mine, where will the story go? Memories are always in the first person, stories are not. Others can take my memory in another direction and I find that unsettling. In a way I suppose it is the difference between heaven and hell. We all want to go to heaven don't we? Of course we do, even when we deny the existence of such. It is my feeling, in the final moments, we all pray. And we pray for where we go, not for where we have been.

 It is our story that keeps us alive. That is what I say to those that have suffered the loss of a loved one. As long as our name is spoken, we are alive. I was curious about my ancestors and learned their names. Some had to be resurrected. At least in my world they did, as their names had been forgotten and gone unspoken for a generation or two. In other circles, in other parts of the story that may not have been the case. I don't know where the story went. There's the hook, "after I'm gone, I wonder where ,the story goes." Sing that with a steel guitar in the background and grab your beer. That's the thought.