The power of the written word...

I have always been a writer.  I grew up with a mom who wrote 'daily lists' and we would work off of those to get things done.  It was just a natural part of our day.  She taught me to write my thoughts and feelings down.  She gave me my first diary.  I'm not even sure people use diaries any more.  Maybe they're called journals now.  The thrill of writing things, privately, was something I loved!  I remember my brother trying to find the key to the flimsy lock my diary had.  It was so empowering knowing that my words would remain secret behind this golden lock.  I wrote in it every night.  I ended up with several diaries.  Looking back on them, when I would start a new one, it was obvious how my writing improved.  I became more comfortable with the written word.  It was a special, unique part of my life.  No one graded what I wrote.  No one saw it but me.  The words were honest and open.  Sometimes reading back, I would laugh and sometimes I would immediately feel the pain some words were initially written with.  That's the power of the written word.

As I grew up and met Ed (in junior high), I started writing notes to him during the school day.  Of course, in those days we didn't have cell phones so there was no texting.  Writing notes and folding them in special ways was what we did in the 80's!  Since Ed and I dated for several years, when we got married, we had huge garbage bags full of old notes we had each written each other.  Mine were long and sappy.  Ed's were all the same.  God love him, he tried.  Almost all of his had the same content.  But, I was always thrilled to see him walking toward me with a note.  It was just between us.  Those notes meant so much to me and I knew he only wrote them because I asked him to.  Made me love him even more.

Once the kids were born, I loved writing in their baby books.  But beyond that, when they were little it was hard to take the time to sit down and write anything else.  We were so busy with four kids in 5 years.  Once they were school aged, I tried to include a little note in each of their school lunches.  I wanted them to have a little bit of home during the day.

Even though I was now a wife and mom, my mom never stopped writing notes and sending them to me until she passed away in 2002.  It was then that I realized how important the written word was.  To not only be able to hear her voice again, in my head, as I read what she wrote, but to also see her handwriting.  Those are priceless gifts. 

Soon after she passed away, I remembered a book of poetry that mom had been writing in during her illness.  She gave it to me about a year before she died.  She had underlined phrases in certain poems and had written in the margins beside others.  I truly think mom wanted me to have this lasting memory.  She must have known I would read it over and over.  Not often, though, because most days it's still too painful to read much from that book.  But over the 12 years she's been gone, I have reached for that book countless times...sometimes only getting through one poem.  The book sits on my bedside table.  It's always there if I need it.  It's one of my most prized possessions. 

In mom's honor, at Christmas time several years ago, I bought a journal at a bookstore.  I made the first entry and gave it to one of my sons.  The entry explained that this journal would be passed around from one family member to another.  It could happen at any time or any place.  The family member who receives the journal gets to pick the next family member to receive it.  Sometimes, the journal has been passed on in a few months.  Other times, it's been a year or more.  It needs to be given when something meaningful happens.  Besides the first entry I wrote, I received it back once, as well.  I was able to read the other entries my family had made.  To read the interactions of my family is remarkable.  This is, by far, the best Christmas gift we have ever given each other.

In whatever form it may be, I believe we all need to write. Write to those we love.  Write to anyone who touches our lives.  We rarely think about the power of the written word.  It's a lost art.  Take the time to do it.  Make sure that when you can't write any longer, your words will remain.

It is what it is.

p