A Journal Afterlife
What do I want for my words after I die?
Hello Friends,
I’ve thrown my hat in the National Novel Writing Month ring again this year.
Last year was a mad dash of scribbling, and I actually reached my goal of 50,000 words and won! This year, I’m cheating because all my words aren’t new.
I have written my story in blog posts and Instagram posts, and in journals, both physical and online. I’ve published stories in small newspapers and on big websites. I have notes in the margins of books I’ve read and in my planners.
I want to bring together all I have written and try to mold it into something that makes sense.
As I go back through all this writing, I’m left wondering,
“What do I want for my journals after I die?”
I think about this in two ways; first, as a mother and wife who wants to protect her family from pain. What I write isn’t particularly revolutionary. I like to think it isn’t much different than how I present myself to the world, but maybe a grieving husband or child might not want to read my sad stories and petty complaining.
But I also think about this as a daughter who lost both of her parents too soon.
I think the daughter part of me speaks louder here. My father died when I was four years old, and I have no real memories of him. My mental images are two-dimensional, just a few scattered pictures. The stories I know are secondhand. He is a mystery to me.
Years ago, I came across some taped letters my dad sent my mom while stationed in Korea. They were simple, “How was your day” type, but I heard his voice. I heard how he pronounced Saturday as “Saturdee.”
I also came across a letter he wrote my mom after I was born. He seemed so surprised and joyful, but then he said he was proud of my mom, and I thought that was an interesting and seemingly formal thing to say. Maybe the tone might have made more sense if I had known him or seen their marriage in action. But I don’t have any of that context.
My mother died when I was 18. It was the summer after my first year of college. We were close, but I wasn’t quite old enough for us to interact as peers. I never got to ask her what it was like to suddenly lose the love of your life. I wish I could have comforted her and told her she did a good job raising me.
I would have liked to read about her inner struggles. I would have wanted to know she gossiped, got frustrated, and acted petty sometimes. Because to me, she was nothing short of a superhero. She only made the right choices and said the right things. Maybe I would have felt more comfortable in my own shortcomings as an adult, mother, wife, and friend.
My parents didn’t leave behind any journals, and it feels like another loss.
As for my own journals, I think I’ll leave it up to the people I leave behind.
We all own our writing, and it’s our choice to do with it what we want- maybe I’m just more sensitive to hanging on because I understand that once someone is gone, there are no more answers, and what we want to know most in grief is, “Were we loved?”
This is where I am today. Thank you for listening.
xoxo,
Emily
P.S. Isolation Journals had a prompt on the journal afterlife a few weeks back, and inspired this post.
Your Journal Prompt for Today
Post your response in the comments below or tag me on Instagram @emilykathleenwrites
Read This Week
Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert
"Upteenth." A made-up word my mother used to signify an uncountable number. "For the umpteenth time, Clean up your room!" I have read Big Magic an umpteenth number of times. (more)
Beautiful writing, but without a narrative throughline.
Jenkin's first book, To Shake the Sleeping Self, had a narrative and told a story. It also had introspection but wasn't vulnerable enough for me. This book is more vulnerable but without the narrative. (more)
What are you reading?
Links to Ponder
Julie Powell, Food Writer Known for ‘Julie & Julia,’ Dies at 49 (New York Times)
I got lost in this philosophical essay about how to nurture your personal library. Worth the read, but if you’re not in the mood, there is a quick list of “key points” about halfway down.
With the remodel coming up, I hope to mix in some old with the new. These tips for antique shopping will come in handy. (Wit & Delight)
“In 1995, on my third night in Seattle, I saved a girl’s life.” A first line like that will always make me read on. (Oldster)
The “joy budget.” (Personal Finance)
There is no sixth love language? … Not even “I read the book you gave me?” or “I made you tacos?” (The New York Times)
If you could invite five authors, dead or alive, to dinner, who would you choose? (Modern Mrs. Darcy)
How to go into lockdown in a library. Gave me chills. (Lit Hub)
What would I tell my younger self? (Zibby Mag)
If you only have time for one thing… Anxiety pee, Hahahaha (Elyse Meyers)
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