I started this blog with an entry on my birthday and in that entry I talked about your diaries.
They are still upstairs, in the perfect chest I found for them, protection against any possible damage.
You wrote in those every night, for so many years. I tried to follow your example, many times, but always lost interest. I guess I didn’t believe I had enough to say.
I don’t feel that way anymore Grandma. In fact, it’s become quite a problem now, now that I have too much to say and I can’t stop myself.
I think what you had to say, all written by hand up in those books, I think that was all important stuff and I wish I could see to read it myself.
I remember how you used to read from your diaries, to me, at your kitchen table sometimes.
You sometimes even stumbled and had trouble reading your own writing, from so many years gone by.
You loved your ritual of writing in your diary at night. I loved that about you.
Now I don’t know if you would think it quite so good an idea, if you were still here, if you knew I wrote my blog for so many to see.
You were from a different time and you didn’t understand the Internet. From the few conversations we had about it, you didn’t seem all that impressed.
I have good reason to believe you would understand though, if you knew what it means to me to have a journal, a blog, a diary.
You knew I couldn’t write by hand anymore.
I would show you my blog, but you wouldn’t buy a computer, so I would have to print out my blogs for you to read.
I know you’d want me to. You’d ask when I saw you, if I had any more journals written since we saw each other last, because you loved reading my words.
I miss the unconditional love and acceptance you gave, that pure pride I heard in your voice when, on those rare occasions, I showed you something I’d written.
I write with you in mind, all the time, Grandma.
I want to keep a journal, a record of all the thoughts and all the experiences I’ve had since you’ve been gone, that I wish I could share with you.
I dedicate today’s stream of consciousness Saturday post to you.
This was my post for this week’s SoCS, with today’s prompt, “Jour”, from:
I didn’t feel very French today.
I thought of journal and immediately thought of my grandmother’s diaries, the ones that are my most treasured belongings, since she died ten years ago.
16 thoughts on “SoCS: Dear Grandma”
This is so sweet of you. 🙂 I lost both of my grandmas at an early age. I never got the chance to bond with them as much as you did with yours. I know your grandma is in a safer and wonderful place now. 🙂
Btw, did you really keep your grandma’s diaries? That is really beautiful.
Yes. I did.
Wonderful heart warming post💖🌹💟
I only met one grandmother briefly. The other three grandparents died before I was born, so I always missed them. Now I’m grandmother of three and I hope they’ll remember me the way you remember your grandmother 🌠
Thank you. Yes, that is how I think of it now, when I watch my niece and nephews with my parents. I’m sure of it.
One of my most prized possessions is a letter my grandfather wrote to my grandmother the week before their wedding in 1920. I’m so jealous that you have entire journals!
That must be precious to you. I love old letters.
What a great point to make. Diaries of old were private and cherished keepsakes and most wrote never intending for their thoughts and ideas to be shared. What a wonderful keepsake to have.
Hers wasn’t the kind of diary to hold secrets. She just liked to write down her life, in a way so it wouldn’t be forgotten. At least that’s how I like to think of it. Thank you for reading.
You’ve got me thinking of my grandmother. She raised me and I remember her stories. Thanks for the memories you’ve woken in me.
Mostly good ones I hope. Thank you very much for reading.
Yes, very good!
This was so sweet and beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
Lovely post. 🙂
Thank you for reading.
I feel there is still a strong connection between you and your grandma. She loves you very much, and she is proud of you. She’s tickled pink about your writing this for her. That just came to me. Is that something she might say?
We were very close.