While performing my spring/Swedish Death cleaning I destroyed a bunch of journals that I really didn't want anyone to read after I'm gone. At the same time, I saved a few for posterity, like the one I wrote when my Dad passed away. I think how I dealt with losing him might be helpful to Katherine when the time comes for me to go.
I found a little journal filled with poetry that I wrote twenty-four years ago that someone might enjoy. Unlike my high school attempts, the verses aren't half-bad, either.
Even in one of my menopause years journals I put things that were beautiful, like this peacock feather. I can't believe I liked writing on black paper so much (what was I thinking?) but I appreciate how hard I tried in most of my journals to find and appreciate beauty. Maybe the ones I do leave behind will help someone else do that.
Comments
I had a hysterectomy at 50. I think my menopause lasted all of 3 weeks.
And writing on black paper? It hurts my eyes just thinking of that. :D