Why Journaling Is On My To-Do List

If you have been reading for a while you may have noticed that journaling for my husband and kids is always on my to-do list. I still haven’t done it.

If it is something that is continually put off, why is it on my list?

Because of a gift I was left. The night before my wedding I was given this:

It’s from my dad. He left one for each one of us, my mom (actually she had several), my brother, and I. We had no idea they even existed, mom found them by accident. They are not anything fancy. Just a notebook in the color that represented us in my father’s eyes, emblazoned with his art/handwriting (to me his handwriting will always be art). They weren’t even wrote in regularly.

But WOW!

What a gift to get on the eve of your wedding. I literally walked around with cold spoons over my eyes the morning of our big day.

So why have I been dragging my feet on starting them for my husband and children?

Honestly, I’m not sure. Sometimes I think I’ll just remember everything and tell them. Stupid, I know. Sometimes I feel like it is a ‘death sentence.’ If I write down my thoughts, feelings, and dreams to my family; I might die too. I know this is irrational thinking, my journal was started at least ten years before dad’s accident (just a guess- he didn’t date it). Sometimes I feel that those feelings are mine, not to be shared. This is purely selfish, something I need to work on- breaking down my wall. Other times I get paralyzed, my perfectionist takes over and tells me, “You know you’re not going to be regular about journaling, so why bother?”

Enough excuses! This is very important to me. It is important that even after I am gone (hopefully a very, very long time from now) that my family knows my love for them. It is important that they know my feelings, dreams, insecurities, proud moments, and everything in between.

I may forget to tell them. I may tell them, and they may forget.

I want to have a gift to share with my family, just like the gift left for me.

So I start. I start a journal for each one of my men. Just like mine, theirs’ get emblazoned with my art, and written with my hand.

I am not going to beat myself up about regularity. I am not going to guard my heart. I AM going to be deliberate about recording our memories.

What gift had the most impact on your life?