"It's over! I knew our relationship would be finished one day, but I had no idea your last page would come so quickly. I know I have to be mature about this, as all good things must come to an end, however, as I write this last entry, I want to reassure you that you will be in good company. Here, let me introduce you to some of the other journals in my collection."
This was from my 'teen years journal'. A real pal during the puberty phase. I remember one entry where I came running home in tears because some kids had teased me. My poor Mom, who was up to her elbows with dinner preparation, tried to console me with logic, “Oh just forget it. Twenty years from now, you won’t even remember these kids, let alone a comment they said about what you’re wearing...” But, in that moment I just couldn’t forget their painful remarks—I needed an attentive ear to hear the whole story. Well, it was this journal that patiently listened to me page, after page, after page, until finally on page four when I had no more to say, I realized that these kids maybe weren’t so bad and all could be forgiven. A worthy note about Mom’s accurate wisdom—I don’t remember those kids. But, it was this journal that taught me forgiveness.
Oh, this is a good one, my 'will I ever be loved for me' journal. I had grown up and there weren’t any teenagers taunting my feelings, however, there was a new level of hurt brought on by a boyfriend who decided that dancing all hours of the night with someone else was way more fulfilling than sitting listening to me go on about the meaning of life. So, my loneliness filled my nights with cathartic writing. Funny how my journal didn’t seem to find my life boring one bit or mind that I covered it's pages with tear stains.
This is one of the journals that followed, the 'people expect too much from me' journal with entries like, “Grrr, nobody can handle these kind of deadlines. How does my new boss think I can keep up with all the work anyway?!? Is he crazy! Well, only five more days until my vacation.” Speaking of which, one of my favourites is the 'once in a lifetime' travel journal with highlights like, “The room is so beautiful! The bedding, ooh,... has 1500 thread count egyptian, cotton sheets. There’s a thick, french duvet cover and fluffy pillows - I'm sinking in it as I write. The bathroom has a heat floor, a heated floor of all things, IN THE BATHROOM. Gee, I could live in this kinda luxury hotel forever; I love it! Now, I know why Coco Chanel lived in that hotel in Paris as long as she did.”
Finally, an inspirational art journal, the kind you want to share with others. I remember one of those moments while I watched my friend flip through the pages chirping, “There’s nothing but drawings in this journal.” “Yes, can you see it? Can you see how amazing these curves are in the design. Boy, those guys really knew what they were doing. The architecture is amazing!” This is just one of many in my library. Ones with photos, ones with notes on the history of calligraphy and the Benedictine monks, ones full of famous quotes and inspirational sayings.
So, my dear journal, as you can see, personal note taking has great meaning in this home. To me, each page in these books are like individual angels that have been sent to hold my fears, measure my evolution, remind me of the good times, and best of all, they will carry my words of gratitude back to heaven.
Where would I be without such good friends near, sitting on a bedroom night stand or the shelf of our library? Don’t worry, the new one may be beautiful, if I do say so myself—journal at top of page—it was inspired by the calligraphy I was referring to earlier, however, it can never replace you.
See you soon to reminisce and love always.
P.S. I definitely will be adding into my Gratitude Journal just how thankful I am for you, my little journal.
That's all for now.