I find it interesting now that I was all about the facts. No emotion, although that was the first time I remember seeing the adults in my life cry. Most of the year's entries record such worthy facts as what we had for dinner, guests who might have visited that day, the weather for the day, or some success or disappointment at school.
Several years later, my mother again gave me a diary but this time it was a Five Year Diary.
And, yes, that is a photo of that diary. I clearly was compulsive enough to write something every day, from January 1 of 1966 through December 31 of 1970. Again, most entries are factual and do not show much emotion. I can trace my progress from a 12 year old until the December of my senior year.
That diary was immediately followed by yet another one which ran from January, 1971 and stopped very abruptly on January 20, 1973. Things changed in my world on January 21, 1973 and somehow I think diaries seemed young and foolish at that point.
Well, guess what?
My brother Matthew told me that he has a ten year diary and that got me to thinking about those old diaries from way back when. I began to wonder what I might learn from keeping such a record. I did some research and found what I think will be a suitable book for the next five years. The daily spaces are large enough but not too large and, of course, at the moment, it is empty. I have kept a journal for years but that is more of a collection of essays. This is a daily, brief entry. I wonder what direction it will go? I know I am still compulsive enough to make three minutes every night (or more likely every morning for the previous day) to record something. Will I feel too young and foolish to complete this book? Will I be closed and protective in this journal? Will I focus on the facts? What adventures are waiting?
I am curious.
Being diligent and faithful to a diary is on my list each January 1. I have yet to follow, through. But I am going to try again this year.
ReplyDeleteI understand what you mean about the content. After all, can we really expect that what we record will forever be for our eyes only?
I suppose I could make a request in my folder of burial directions that all private journals and such be destroyed but, I guess once I am dead, it doesn't matter what was written. I am writing for myself and what any one else thinks doesn't matter? Question mark intended as I really don't know where I am on this.
DeleteI think keeping a journal is so important for all who come after us - especially those grandchildren you are going to have someday :) Who knows? That may be the only way they will have of getting to know who you are and why you are :) You''ve just inspired me to start mine up again - thank you!
ReplyDeleteHmmm, Judy, see the reply I just wrote to Lynda -- I'm not sure I want the next generation to know me....
DeleteI recently acquired my Grandmother's journal where she just wrote about the weather and what we ate or if anyone visited. I loved reading through it. A handwritten record is cool in this day and age where everything is digital and seemingly impermanent.
ReplyDeleteOkay, Pamela, you tossed me another thought here - you liked reading those papers - you are an historian but how judgmental do you get in the reading? And, the question again for me is, do I really care what anyone else thinks? Especially since they might be reading the words from their own vantage place in time and might have a skewed perspective....
DeleteI'm curious too--and hope to hear how it's turning out, generally. I have often thought about that kind of just-the-facts reporting. I know I have read a few books that were based on those sorts of records--one written by a midwife in colonial Maine, that were fascinating even though they were not particularly intimate or personally revealing.
ReplyDelete