Dear Diary

It dawned on me a few weeks ago that a blog is often like a diary – albeit one a person actually wants others to read.

Does anyone actually write in a diary anymore?

What about letters? Other than thank-you notes, I haven’t written a letter in years.

My husband and I have no love letters between us.  We met in our mid-20s, a time well beyond the note-swapping that was the major form of writing when I was in junior high and high school.

This means our children will probably know little about the way we felt when we fell in love. We can tell them of course, but there’s something about writing one’s feelings at the moment they occur that shows more of one’s soul.

The idea that the words I pour into this space might someday be a reminder to my children of who I was as a young mother and how much I adore them has lately filled me with a stronger sense of purpose.

This space is not only a way for my friends, family and new online acquaintances to read my thoughts about our life, but it might also be a way to preserve feelings and stories to pass along to my children.

Sure, they will have their memories, but memories fade and don’t often tell the whole story. Maybe through these posts I can preserve moments in time of our story as a family.

I hope more than ever that my words are an accurate record and reflection of our time together.