I figure that’s a good place to start.
It’s so easy to take writing for granted because it’s something so integrated into our lives. When we respond to emails, texts, write letters and notes to the ones we love, we don’t quite realise this amazing gift we have.
Growing up, I wrote letters to my mom and grandmother even though I saw them everyday. As open as the talking lines were in my family, there was something in writing that enabled me to express much more than if I were to just tell them in a conversation. Writing made me think about what I truly wanted to say. My mother would send me cards even when there was no occasion for it, and when I studied abroad my grandmother would send me letters. I knew that every card and letter I received meant time they had spent thinking about me.
We can’t stop time, but we come close when we write. Years on, reading those penned conversations I had with my grandmother makes me feel like maybe she’s still around.
As the world gets more visual and I move along with it, I want to be reminded of the power that words carry. As life gets busier, I want to be reminded to stop and take in, reflect and learn, from the things that are happening around me. I want to remember life and be able to share as much as I can with the children as they grow up. One way for me to do that is to write.
So this journal begins. I’m not sure where it will take me, but I know that it will be good.