Ever since I was a teen I have kept a journal of some sort. It all began very innocently. At first Istarted using a calendar. I had a calendar that I hung on the bulletin board in my room. I would write birthdays on it. Then I began writing down upcoming appointments and events. Soon I would write tidbits of what took place on a particular day until those tiny little squares were no longer big enough to contain the things I wanted to write.
That’s when it progressed to a notebook. Actually, if I recall correctly, I used loose leaf paper and put it in a pocket folder, the kind that has the thingys that hold the paper in the center of the folder…what are they called?
I no longer have the orginal journal I kept during high school. I destroyed it when I moved out of my parents home. It was too incriminating. Nothing illegal, mind you, just stuff I would rather not share with whoever will be reading it when I pass from this world. I do, however, still have those calendars in a keepsake box…
When I was a young mother I got really busy and there were huge time lapse in between entries. One thing I did start and am so glad I did, was keeping a journal for each of my three kids. It started as letters to each of them when I was pregnant. I think I made two or three entries during that time. It then became more of a recording of special events and occasions as they were growing. And finally, now that they are older, I have returned to writing letters again, letters which contain things I want to say to them, things I perhaps haven’t said as often as I would have liked, and of things I think they would want to hear from their mother once I am gone.
With the move several months ago, I seemed to have misplaced one of the journals. I know where they were kept before we moved. I know where two of them are now. I just can’t seem to find the other one, the one that belongs to my youngest child. I’m hoping with all that I have that I will find it safely tucked away in a box that is in the storage unit.
And the journal was found!