Not really, just a continued effort, on a different blog.
When was the first time I kept a written journal?
It was 9th grade English class — the written journal was a required part of the class.
See, the English instructor was also the school counselor, as well as vice-principal, and a football coach — he sometimes had to be away for various school ‘projects’ — the journal was a way to keep us involved with topics relate to using the English language.
There were no requirements as to what we wrote, how we wrote; spelling or punctuation (as I remember) — just that we had to write something in the journal every day we attended the English class.
That was around 1978-1979.
This was about a year before things got really crazy in my teenage years –
In 1980 my parents got divorced (Dad’s idea) — Mom and I ended up in Adairsville, Georgia with a very old/”cranky” automobile, that did not have a heater; and neighbors who would get into fights — living in a mobile home park isn’t the best neighborhood, at times.
I had plenty of topics/concerns to write about in those days.
Much about of what I was feeling, thinking and dreaming about — found it’s way into spiral bound notebooks, which would keep near my bed.
Why do I continue to keep a journal (or three)?
It helps me make sense of the confusion of life events; such as when my Mom recently broke her ankle — I went to stay with her while she recovered. Spending several days each week with her, then returning back to Weaver, the farm, and Dave each weekend.
From early August – about December 20th; this was the pattern.
While it was still “the reality” I was coping with — I did not write about daily events.
Cooking, washing dishes, feeding the cats; tending Mom’s needs, doing laundry, cleaning floors — not particularly a thrilling group of topics to report — so I just went through each day, hoping that I wouldn’t feel so much like a “fish out of water”…that feeling stayed with me for the duration.
I remember when I was about 12 years old, visiting my grandmother in Calcis — she was a neighbor, lived on top of the highest hill; and had her children visit nearly each weekend. I have a vivid image of one of my uncles — crashed out on the sofa in the middle of the day. I just could not understand why…
About midway through August this year, I completely understood.
Being with family members, close and dear to your heart; does not change the feeling of displacement — you are in SOMEONE ELSE’S home. Nothing of yours is there, unless you bring it along. Points of reference, familiar items (radio. tv, computer) do not seem as friendly, as the are when you get to your home on the days ‘away’ from the sitting with an elderly parent.
No one is to blame for the uncomfortable situation — it just means that you have developed your own sense of being (a well developed personality), away from what you had when you previously live with your parents.
That was the close of 2012 for me.
So what does 2013 hold in store?
Well.. this week the weather may get nasty, again.
That could lend itself to more time spent indoors, contemplating other (outdoor) projects; while maintaining a cedar fueled fire in the wood-burning stove. Such days are perfect for sitting at the laptop, if the power stays on — or the notebook if the power gets shut down — penning or typing what thoughts rattled around in a hyper-active brain.
Any way, this post has ramble on about as far as I dare go for now. So, the “journaling” continues…
– Cathy Ann Abernathy