Taking the high road
I have come to understand the need for fiction writing in a whole new way.
When I began blogging over a year ago, my goal was to share slices of life and observations from my own experiences. In essence, to share truth as it presented itself. I fully anticipated that at some point I'd run up against one specific problem with that plan: I am intricately connected to others. When I reveal bits of my journey, very often I'm also exposing the struggles of those whose lives touch mine. In doing so, it's easy to invade others' rights to privacy.
This is one of the reasons I decided to take a break last fall, the need for integrity above all else. The daily dramas I was entering into were not mine to share ... even if they captured many a valuable life lesson.
Now, don't get me wrong! I'm still awash in tales of my own foibles! In the coming days I'll fill you in on my recent lapse in mindfulness and the broken ankle that resulted. But just for today I wanted to acknowledge -- perhaps even celebrate -- the reality of human inter-connectedness and the bonds of trust that need to be protected ... even if a great story is buried in the process!
Some day I will delve into fiction to tell those truths that would somehow be lost in a "tell-all" accounting. The truths that would somehow be rendered sordid or exploitive if I spared no detail. But today's not that day ... and this site is not the right forum.
But, be forewarned! For Enroute 365 to continue as a "life travelogue," I may deliver fewer stories and more brief insights, especially during those times when my days intertwine deeply with those of a family member or friend. It's a conscious decision to take the high road ... on this site and in my life.






Contemplations on aging.
today isn’t my 16th
For the better part of two weeks, I've been telling stories of family growth through the generations. Coverage on this topic would not be complete without a foray into the latest generation of my own family, so I asked my eldest nephew Jesse if I could speak with him as a representative of this generation and share some of his music with you (click links below to hear music clips.)
I originally had another post about family planned for today ... until I discovered several other bloggers posting on the subject that I thought deserved the spotlight. Their writing gave me an extra measure of perspective (and a smile or two)! So if you liked "
When I look at the continuity of human life, I see every generation as a bridge of sorts. Each generation transitions from one which grows wise but (dare I say it?) set in its ways ... to another that is filled with promise. We are the link between old traditions and new ideas ... and we have great opportunity to bring together the best of both.
My car serves as a roaming flower dispenser again this year. 
Thirty minutes later that memory has faded. Now at a different cemetery, Frank and I work together to recognize two family members who died as infants plus two who died during war time. The difference between this stop and our first is that neither Frank nor I ever met any of the lads we now honor. One, a half-brother to my spouse, had been born some 12 years before Frank's own birth. At the time of the boy's death, Frank's father and his first wife had been unable to afford a proper headstone. Frank's mother (wife #2 and a woman who dearly
loved children) rectified this situation soon after joining the family. I think she would be pleased to know that her son still acknowledges the life one taken so young.
a plane accident at Pike's Peak, dying just days before his own scheduled wedding. He might have avoided this ill-fated Guard assignment, but he had won the deciding coin toss with his nephew Skippy, the other contender for this particular adventure. Just a few years younger than his beloved uncle, Skippy's own luck ran out a short time later in a fatal auto accident while returning from a Guard training practice. But each year they live on as their intertwined life stories are retold.

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