When I was a teen, I used to have a journal. I started journaling because it was encouraged at church. It was supposed to be a way to find oneself and get in touch with their spirituality.
I didn’t have a formal journal. I remember taking college-ruled paper and keeping the sheets I’d written in a binder.
I wrote very personal things in there and while I don’t remember much about what I wrote, I do recall that after I came home years after I’d left to the military, I found a small stack of the sheets stapled together.
I destroyed the darn thing from the embarrassment of what I’d glanced. It was so dumb. I regret having done that. I probably should have taken a closer look at what I’d written.
Over the years, I’ve journaled to keep a time capsule of my life on paper. I’d like to believe that what I’ve written will help me remember more of my life and perhaps my family members after I’m gone.
Yeah, it’s corny. But, that’s who I am and I love it. Continue reading “Your Memories in a Book”