In her 70s my grandmother had asked my grandfather to burn all her journals but he couldn’t do it. Years later she discovered that he hadn’t destroyed them and was not pleased. So she asked my dad to burn them and he said he had to— they were her journals and she had the right to decide what was done with them. I still think about that.
I used to keep one so faithfully! But I haven’t been doing so for many years now. It makes me sad that so much of my life as a mother has gone mostly unrecorded. But it’s never too late to begin.
It's definitely not too late. I have large gaps (years) between some of my journals. And plenty of half-finished journals. But collected all together, it looks like I still have threads to string together for the wider story.
It was also really interesting because my dad’s siblings were mad at him for destroying the journals. So much personal history recorded for posterity gone, they said! But my dad held strong in his convictions. Definitely an interesting family episode…
I love this reflection. When I was in bed recovering from my hysterectomy a few years back, I re-read some of my journals. It was pretty amazing to me to find threads that God wove into my life years ago that I hadn't noticed in my day to day life. I've never thought I want my journals burned. My impulse is to let those after me decide whether they want to read them or not - with the caveat that each line represents only where I was at the time, not where I ended up. Who knows what my daughters might see about God's faithfulness in my life if the looked back over the time I've chronicled?
First of all I'm not surprised to hear that you've never wanted to burn your journals, friend. I love this- "My impulse is to let those after me decide whether they want to read them or not - with the caveat that each line represents only where I was at the time, not where I ended up." If these journals make it past my life, I'd like to leave that note as a framework for anyone who reads them.
there are so many ways to think about this conversation and I think it is truly a personal question/answer, but I really appreciate your angle of response, @Shannon.
"Each line represents only where I was at the time....."
Though I have at times thought to shred my stuff, this is where I have landed too. There is a throughline on this path to becoming myself - for me, there is value in tracing it. My kids can make of it whatever they will.
We have had the gift of my quirky grandmother's journals left behind and they are a family treasure.
(also - for the record, I already told you @aimee but just so I don't look like I'm bumping in here and ignoring the source material - I like this post very much :-) )
Thanks, friend, I actually thought of what you've shared with me about your grandmother's journals as I was sifting through my thoughts for this piece. I feel like you said to me something akin to the idea that it gave you a more nuanced view of her. But maybe I'm adding in those words because that's what I took from our conversation. Either way, it has stuck around in my thoughts.
Grandma's journals have given our family so much entertainment - we pull them out at random moments and read down trails. She was a particular character in each our lives, depending on our spot in the family tree. It's interesting to read and find threads of her that are woven into me. But - I totally understand not leaving journals for others to read!!! (I just sent my sister your substack posting and she said she knows someone who is leaving journals in a box for designated friends + a 20$ bill for s'mores fixings. 😜)
This makes me think about Beth Moore talking about her instructions to her children for her journals. I’m not sure I would want my kids to read, but I’m also not sure I wouldn’t?
I’ve gone back to some of my old ones, looking for clues as to what was actually going on. But actually - back to Beth - I have never heard someone describe that experience of having sanitized and over spiritualized your life, even to yourself, so well. I wish for my own sake that I had a real record of things early on, but I can see how hard I was trying.
It’s painful to look at some of those places though, I agree.
Did you read about Beth Moore's thoughts about her journals in her memoir? I haven't it read it yet even though so many have recommended it. Maybe it's time to start the audiobook.
I'm gathering from your comment that her journals weren't a true reflection of what was really going on in her life?
I know that I wrote with some awareness that someone might read my journals but the glimpses I've taken this weekend tell me that I still got some truth down.
As I've thought about the last few days, I've realized that I was judging myself as I wrote during those earlier years of journal keeping, for not handling all the parts of my life better. When I read a few snippets this past weekend, I saw from a different perspective that younger version of myself. I could clearly see the challenges that I faced, both the impossible situations and how hard I was trying to get it right. I felt overwhelming compassion for that younger self. And that is a gift worth finding.
Her memoir was so well done. You could tell she’d done the hard work to offer her story as a gift without re-traumatizing the people it was meant for. But yes, she talks about how she sanitized her journals even for herself - that inability to even name what was going on in your most private places.
Thank you for this, Aimee! It's made me realize how attached to my journals I am. My whole life, since I was old enough to write, is contained in these notebooks and one my favorite things to do is go back and read them. As far as others reading them after my death, I was always of the opinion that if they didn't want me writing about them, they shouldn't have pissed me off. 😁 But now, after reading your post, I'm wondering if my inability to even imagine destroying my journals is a form of clinging to something, and that my existence is only affirmed if I have my writings about it. Wow, this gives me a lot to ponder! Thank you!
Hi Jenna. It makes a lot of sense to me that you would hold your journals as a treasure- they house so much of you! I would love to hear any thoughts you have as you continue to ponder it. I've continued to think about my relationship with my journals since writing this several days ago. Why have I feared them ? What do they have to offer me and possibly my family one day? What do journals offer us now, in the present moment, when we write in them? I may share some follow-up thoughts next week.
In her 70s my grandmother had asked my grandfather to burn all her journals but he couldn’t do it. Years later she discovered that he hadn’t destroyed them and was not pleased. So she asked my dad to burn them and he said he had to— they were her journals and she had the right to decide what was done with them. I still think about that.
That sounds about right to me, that each person should have their say in what happens with their own recorded history. Do you keep a journal?
I used to keep one so faithfully! But I haven’t been doing so for many years now. It makes me sad that so much of my life as a mother has gone mostly unrecorded. But it’s never too late to begin.
It's definitely not too late. I have large gaps (years) between some of my journals. And plenty of half-finished journals. But collected all together, it looks like I still have threads to string together for the wider story.
It was also really interesting because my dad’s siblings were mad at him for destroying the journals. So much personal history recorded for posterity gone, they said! But my dad held strong in his convictions. Definitely an interesting family episode…
It's definitely not an easy scenario. It's hard since only your grandmother knew what it was that she wanted to keep hidden. How do you feel about?
When my fourteen-year-old was reading this newsletter she said, "Well, now I REALLY want to read your journals."
I love this reflection. When I was in bed recovering from my hysterectomy a few years back, I re-read some of my journals. It was pretty amazing to me to find threads that God wove into my life years ago that I hadn't noticed in my day to day life. I've never thought I want my journals burned. My impulse is to let those after me decide whether they want to read them or not - with the caveat that each line represents only where I was at the time, not where I ended up. Who knows what my daughters might see about God's faithfulness in my life if the looked back over the time I've chronicled?
First of all I'm not surprised to hear that you've never wanted to burn your journals, friend. I love this- "My impulse is to let those after me decide whether they want to read them or not - with the caveat that each line represents only where I was at the time, not where I ended up." If these journals make it past my life, I'd like to leave that note as a framework for anyone who reads them.
there are so many ways to think about this conversation and I think it is truly a personal question/answer, but I really appreciate your angle of response, @Shannon.
"Each line represents only where I was at the time....."
Though I have at times thought to shred my stuff, this is where I have landed too. There is a throughline on this path to becoming myself - for me, there is value in tracing it. My kids can make of it whatever they will.
We have had the gift of my quirky grandmother's journals left behind and they are a family treasure.
(also - for the record, I already told you @aimee but just so I don't look like I'm bumping in here and ignoring the source material - I like this post very much :-) )
Thanks, friend, I actually thought of what you've shared with me about your grandmother's journals as I was sifting through my thoughts for this piece. I feel like you said to me something akin to the idea that it gave you a more nuanced view of her. But maybe I'm adding in those words because that's what I took from our conversation. Either way, it has stuck around in my thoughts.
Grandma's journals have given our family so much entertainment - we pull them out at random moments and read down trails. She was a particular character in each our lives, depending on our spot in the family tree. It's interesting to read and find threads of her that are woven into me. But - I totally understand not leaving journals for others to read!!! (I just sent my sister your substack posting and she said she knows someone who is leaving journals in a box for designated friends + a 20$ bill for s'mores fixings. 😜)
This makes me think about Beth Moore talking about her instructions to her children for her journals. I’m not sure I would want my kids to read, but I’m also not sure I wouldn’t?
I’ve gone back to some of my old ones, looking for clues as to what was actually going on. But actually - back to Beth - I have never heard someone describe that experience of having sanitized and over spiritualized your life, even to yourself, so well. I wish for my own sake that I had a real record of things early on, but I can see how hard I was trying.
It’s painful to look at some of those places though, I agree.
Did you read about Beth Moore's thoughts about her journals in her memoir? I haven't it read it yet even though so many have recommended it. Maybe it's time to start the audiobook.
I'm gathering from your comment that her journals weren't a true reflection of what was really going on in her life?
I know that I wrote with some awareness that someone might read my journals but the glimpses I've taken this weekend tell me that I still got some truth down.
As I've thought about the last few days, I've realized that I was judging myself as I wrote during those earlier years of journal keeping, for not handling all the parts of my life better. When I read a few snippets this past weekend, I saw from a different perspective that younger version of myself. I could clearly see the challenges that I faced, both the impossible situations and how hard I was trying to get it right. I felt overwhelming compassion for that younger self. And that is a gift worth finding.
Her memoir was so well done. You could tell she’d done the hard work to offer her story as a gift without re-traumatizing the people it was meant for. But yes, she talks about how she sanitized her journals even for herself - that inability to even name what was going on in your most private places.
Thank you for this, Aimee! It's made me realize how attached to my journals I am. My whole life, since I was old enough to write, is contained in these notebooks and one my favorite things to do is go back and read them. As far as others reading them after my death, I was always of the opinion that if they didn't want me writing about them, they shouldn't have pissed me off. 😁 But now, after reading your post, I'm wondering if my inability to even imagine destroying my journals is a form of clinging to something, and that my existence is only affirmed if I have my writings about it. Wow, this gives me a lot to ponder! Thank you!
Hi Jenna. It makes a lot of sense to me that you would hold your journals as a treasure- they house so much of you! I would love to hear any thoughts you have as you continue to ponder it. I've continued to think about my relationship with my journals since writing this several days ago. Why have I feared them ? What do they have to offer me and possibly my family one day? What do journals offer us now, in the present moment, when we write in them? I may share some follow-up thoughts next week.