For as long as I can remember I have written. First in Diaries as a young girl and then in journals.
There is just something about a book filled with words that someone wrote by hand years before. When my Grandma died. Everyone was choosing memorable keepsakes they wanted that would help them to remember her. I happened to choose her little 5 year diary.
It was such a treasure because it was written between the years where she met my grandpa and had my mom! Now if you know me at all, you can imagine how special that is to me.
Whenever I pull it out and read it on those rare occasions, I like to picture my grandmother as a young girl, coming home from a date, excited and in love, flopping on her bed, pouring her heart into the allotted tiny little spaces reserved for her in a five year diary.
Part of my story is centered around my journaling. Not only are those books the keepers of my life’s journey but they are a reflection of my own mantra…. I have said over and over again to my kids and their friends that…
Our lives are like an empty book and every day we write another page.
We can look at our books as pages waiting to be filled and embrace them… or we can feel that we don’t have a lot of chapters left. In my case I have to admit feeling kind of stuck, as if I have a lot of torn pages with erase marks and crossed out words all over them. I am fighting to find my way back to grab a new chapter and hang on with dear life and yet … it is hard when you are tired and older and looking back at all those old journals… reading and remembering and wondering what the heck happened?
As I sat there reading all the journals in front of me, I couldn’t stop. I read them all.
My journals have been an interesting way that I have captured my past. Like photographs I have different snapshots in way of words on pages. Recently, I found a box of old journals and my Mantra kind of came true for me….
The first journal I pulled out was filled with silly, sad poems…
first about wanting to fall in love and then about falling in love and then the rest about my broken heart.
The next was filled with poems from my first marriage. Once again, falling in love and then a lot of writing about what went wrong.
Between having babies and finally going through a divorce, I found about five more books filled with prayers and poetry and pleadings to God to make it better. Finally I found one that is not finished about my life now… Once again, the falling in love and struggles and joys it has brought me.
My blog kind of has replaced my journaling in the way of writing in a book. Though I still love to shop for them and buy them as gifts or keep them just in case I am inspired to go sit on a hillside somewhere and write a poem.
Someone once told me that if anything happens to her she wants to make sure that she has someone appointed that will burn all of hers. I find that so sad. Burning my journals would be like killing a part of my soul. In a way, my words will keep me alive once I am gone. I am so glad that my grandma saved hers.
In my next few posts… I am going to share some of my poetry that I found. Some of them are pretty silly, some are sad, some are quite good and others pretty bad….but they all are parts of me from different times of my life….
Come with me if you like….
Here is the first one…. I wrote it after finding a book that I must have found a few times during my life because it starts out with my son as a baby, and then starts up again with my daughter being born and a lot about my struggling marriage and then I must have found it after I got my divorce and found a lot of pathetic poetry and then a few years later, I was writing about my new marriage… There I was holding my very own quote in my hands… my life written out as a story in a book. Funny how it all came full circle. I was facing my own advice. Knowing it was time for me to listen to myself.
Lost inside the memories
locked inside the pages
lost in the
rolling around in the grass
young and stupid
so in love
just on the edge
28 thoughts on “Life Is Like A Book And Every Day We Write Another Page”
Hello Diane! We have so much in common. I loved this post, and your poem at the end. You always manage to touch me. 🙂
I am in love with your Elevator Story! I predicted the ending towards the end but your wonderful writing kept me reading! I was almost sorry that it was over! I love your writing! I have a feeling that I am getting the privilege of knowing a pre-ground breaking top ten seller lister of an author!
I loved what you shared about your diaries. You gave me an idea for a post. When my 27 year old son died, his written words were all I had left of his heart. Thank you for the follow I am now following you!
Elizabeth! I will be following you and looking for that post! I love your style and so glad we have crossed paths!
How very opposite we are! I expunge, erase, throw away, and focus on now. I remember throwing away a big stack of finished and in-process music I had written because I was stuck writing something new. It was as if I needed to cast off an anchor that was holding me down. So very differently people approach life: some keep mementos and others shun old things as clutter. There’s no wrong or right to any of that, it just is.
It reminds me of something I observed and I might have it all wrong here. When there is a break-up the girl might keep something as a remembrance and the guy more tends to return or get rid of all the notes and letters and pictures, anything that reminds of what was. I don’t know if that is really a difference in personality or of the sexes.
Have been away on a little vacation and it was hard to keep up with my blog while away but it was nice to come back to so many messages and find out I was not forgotten. Hmmmm… You are just now discovering we are opposite? lol.
I am not sure I agree with you about the “guys” getting rid of everything, while the women are the savers. I was surprised to find that my ex husband (Quiet tough guy Marlboro man type of man’s man kind of guy) had saved every card and letter that I ever wrote after we split up. When he died, I received a box of old stuff I wrote. It was too painful to keep. I can’t believe that I threw it all away. Not sure what made me do it. So unlike me who surprise, surprise… is pretty sentimental. But I did. When I read your reply to this post and for some reason it made me think of that.
I love that you write, and I love even more how you went from writing in a book to blogging. Please keep writing online so I can travel on this journey with you 🙂 I am new to writing, and am just starting to realise the gratification if brings to me 🙂 Keep on writing 🙂
You are doing great at writing! Thank you for being such a faithful reader! Been gone for a few days and it was nice coming back to see all the messages! I used to not write for a few days and was forgotten! Now people actually still read my stuff! Love it! You keep up writing as well! Love reading about your strength and progress!
Great post and poem, Diane!
I used to journal a lot, but with the blog and other things, I just don’t have as much time. Our oldest daughter is a journal queen; when we can’t think of gifts to get her for birthdays and Christmas, we buy her journals because she always needs them. She’s very particular too, she’s been buying the same journals for years.
It is awesome that you have your grandma’s journal.
Bill, that is neat to know that your daughter is a writer just like her Dad! I give journals as gifts a lot. Along with my quote. I think there is something about an empty book that is very inspiring. My grandma’s book is a green leather bound little locked diary… the five year kind that makes you really have to think about what you are going to write since you don’t have a lot of space. Funny, I just realized that her favorite color was green. I wonder if she chose it or if it was a gift.
I remember when my dad died. I ravaged his drawers for anything he wrote… wanting to save a piece of him… I found some old letters he wrote to my mom when he was in the air force. He talked about missing the bus to chapel…. It was the peace I needed. God is so good.
My uncle was a Bishop in the Philippines during WW 2 and was taken captive by the Japanese and held as a POW for over 3 years. We have many of the letters he wrote during that time and, even though I only met him three times, through his letters, I feel like I knew him well. I totally get why you cherish grandma’s journal!
Bill! I know how you feel as well! There is something about being allowed to peek into someone else’s life in way of their writing that makes them so familiar! Like all of us here!
How is it that I actually care enough to cry about things others write? Pray for them daily… think about them often and perhaps never meet them?
Because our souls are allowed to connect through words… love it!
Diane, you’re a woman after my own heart! I started journaling when I was eight years old. I’ve managed to keep a dozen or so journals under lock and key. I’m hoping to pass them along to my daughter one day. Like you said, the penned word is such a gift–a true legacy!
It is amazing. I took it out and read it again and it starts when she was sixteen. She wrote about all her crushes before my grandpa and then meeting him… all their dating and wrote in it on her wedding day. It is like a time machine. That might have been embarrassing for her to show me at another time but I think she’d love for “me” to be the one protecting it now! Your daughter will someday treasure yours!
I look forward to reading more…
Thank you for reading! I look forward to reading yours as well!
“Our lives are like an empty book and every day we write another page.” I just love it Diane, and look forward to seeing what you share. I’m sure that in spite of your own perception of your writing through the years, it is all wonderful, because it’s honestly representing where you were at that given time in your life, and God has used all your experiences (good and bad) to cultivate you into the absolutely dynamic woman you are today!!
Thank you! You are such a jewel in my life!
Love ya honey! Have a great day!
I think re-reading our journals is the whole point of writing them in the first place; we CAN look back and see the patterns of our thinking, be surprised at how we’ve changed (especially when we think we haven’t), and see our own foolishness and wisdom then and now. Its good to be able to examine where we’re making the same mistakes too, so we can rectify them. I love your poem, Diane.
I love seeing your face! Getting used to having ya back! I missed ya!
And your great points like this one!
You hit the nail on the heard here! You are right. We do write to go back and trace our footprints. When I found that one same journal that I kept finding and writing in over the years it was like a reality check! But I think that in the beginning… I started writing to just get it out… and because we writers write!
Also… as writing assignments where the instructors promised that they wouldn’t read the content but they graded you for having just filling up the pages…
But in the end like you said…
>>>>we CAN look back and see the patterns of our thinking, be surprised at how we’ve changed (especially when we think we haven’t), and see our own foolishness and wisdom then and now. Its good to be able to examine where we’re making the same mistakes too, so we can rectify them. <<<<< PROFOUND!
thank you for liking my poem. It was one of my random ones that I wrote without really thinking or counting and it makes me realize… sometimes it's not all about the cadence.
Thanks for reading!
Love your post Diane, and the poem 🙂
You are always so sweet and just a loyal reader! I appreciate you!
Hey Dian”ie” where did you get “Annie”? Or were you thinking of someone else?
Sorry, guess I got too familiar. I have a friend named Jayne and I call her Janie sometimes. To me… It’s just like a hug ♡
I love journal! And like you — I buy them even though the blog has sort of become my defacto journal. Though…. there are still things I keep private just for the written page, and there is something about the motion of writing out by hand, emptying my mind at night that still calls to me.
In my journal I am not ‘writing for an audience’ — or at least not a public one. My journal is just for me — and that makes it very special and sacred for me.
I agree! In my bound journals… I always wrote for just me. No audience intended…except for maybe God.
Isn’t reading old journals like looking at a treasure map? The unknown (forgotten) revealed? I stop and start my journals and but when / if I get around to reading them, find unexpected revelations I were too close to see.
This post helps me rethink why I’ve avoided writing in my journal and must go back.
I love the idea of an empty book. It is filled with hope!
Thanks for reading!