Over the years, I've participated in social media pages. Anyone else remember the days of Xanga?! I've written blogs about crafting, scrapbooking and being an Army wife.
Today, I'm making a fresh start in the digital world.
I'm stepping out as the "interrupting historian."
What does this mean for you, my readers? It means you'll hear stories about my life, my children, our transition from military to civilian life, my likes, my dislikes, what I'm reading, what I'm studying, my challenges and triumphs while being a parent, a student, and hopefully (eventually) an employed historian. [Plug: Anyone looking to hire an archivist or technician or researcher, my resume is available upon request.]
As the child of two working parents, I was cared for on a daily basis by a woman named Mildred "Milly" Spahr Cuozzo. From infancy to young adulthood she counseled me and comforted me. As an adult, I visited her when I could and we corresponded through written letters. As a published poet she wrote about children, pets, and daily life. She even wrote a poem for me.
TO LINDSEY
By: Mildred Spahr Cuozzo
With dark hair tossed about her face
And wings as yet untried,
Shall Lindsey with a woman's grace
Hold fast the child inside?
For now, like fledglings in the air
Who soar from nest to sky,
She, too, will seek untraveled lanes
With wings that yearn to fly.
The hands we've held against our hearts
Must someday chart their own,
And fashion what her eyes perceive
To be her gift alone.
How swiftly does the eager flight
Lead thus to womanhood,
God grant her fingers touch the stars
And wonders not they could.
I am thankful for this reminder every day. I've often wondered what "my gift alone" would be. It is my hope that through my experiences with my family, my studies, my hobbies, and maybe even this blog, I will discover my purpose and my true gifts.
