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.