As I struggle to write painful words of painful times that I must write to heal, I try to remember. I wonder if I am remembering correctly? Am I wrong, am I being unfair? Was I to blame?
Then something strange happened this morning, almost like fate or as I have been often been heard to say, the Universe stepped in to speak to me.
As I was preparing boxes to give away clothing and coats for the local charity pickup this morning. I needed to empty boxes in my basement that I had not touched for years. I have moved 19 times in my life, owned 5 homes, and packed and repacked boxes numerous times. I have had basements flooded several times and lost things so many times. But on this particular morning, this morning when I am a loss for words on how to continue to write a painful subject, what do I find, but my diary. Not any diary, but the diary, of the years of that time in my life that I am currently writing about. It is 37 years old.
I started this diary before my first marriage broke up. The first sentence I ever wrote in this book was, “I bought this diary today, don’t know whether it was a good idea or not”. I smile at this now. It was a good idea, now I know that journaling all those years ago was not wasted. I have taken those times and have written stories based on those times, written stories based on those dreams and have come to realize that writing is who I am. It has always been what I do. I have kept journals since I was old enough to write, most journals and diaries I have lost. Memories, however, at least most of them, I have kept and today I found out that my memory has remained pretty accurate.
Reading the thoughts of a 30-year-old me and reflecting on those thoughts now as a 67-year-old me is interesting. I can see where I have changed due to all the circumstances that happened to me, but my philosophy and drive for love has only remained steadfast. I can see where I was needing and see how I grew. I can see where I was weak and naive, but also see how strong I was as well. Sometimes, just getting through hardships is enough, we don’t pay attention while we are passing through the hard times, we are just struggling to make it through to the next day.I was foolish so many times. I gave up for short periods of time, but then continued not just the fight, but renewed my hope for love. I guess that will never cease about me.
Reading these thoughts of this younger me, reminds me that although I have been writing a lot lately, I have not been keeping my daily journal up like I should be. What if it needs to be read again in another 37 years? My life is never static and is always changing. I better get to it. So, dear friends. Think about your life, how would you like to read about it in 37 years? What you do today makes a difference, how you think today will tell your story then.Write your story now.