I have been keeping a journal since 1962. My youngest child was about a year old when I decided to leave a record of my life for posterity. Then, I wrote in longhand, in a spiral notebook and I have a metal file box full of them. How many? I’m not sure and there are many gaps over the past 42 years but when I again picked up the pen (and sooner or later, I always did), I tried to play catch up for the reader. As a novice journal writer, at the time I wasn’t sure how honest I should be so sadly, there are some obvious family history gaps, however, nobody will ever know.
As anyone who writes one knows, those handwritten journals were my best friends; my confidants and my sounding board. No one else has ever read them. I left them with my daughter (after editing) when we retired and became fulltime Rvers but a year later, had second thoughts and retrieved them to put in our storage unit. She had not read them … (I found that really odd) … so they will stay with me until I am put in the ground. When I have taken my last breath, whatever happens to them will not affect me!
We went to my former step-daughter’s house in the foothills of Yuma for a delicious Easter dinner. My Aunt Elaine was also invited and she drove (our little Lone Ranger only seats two). Speaking of our little truck, he was just in the shop and had some work done. They inspected and repacked his wheel bearings; replaced the seals; put on new front brakes and resurfaced the rotors. Now he's good for another 144,000 miles (we hope!).
Update on sister, Dixie: She continues to improve. The Staph infection continues to abate. She went to her daughter’s house for Easter and except for a few minor discomforts, stayed all day and had a good time.