Diary Door

Sweet Judy Blue

In Before You Forget - The Wisdom of Writing Diaries for Your Children, I wrote a chapter on Milistones, Achievements and Rites of Passage, about the value of saving Initiation Stories in your child's diary.

I've saved a lot of Initation Stories for my son in twenty years of writing to him -

first time he saw the moon
first lost tooth
first day of school
first love
getting his license
graduating from high school

Yesterday, he left home in the afternoon in search of a girl.  He drove to Nashua, NH, met her for the first time, fell in love, and brought her home to live with us.  Her name is Judy Blue, and she's a purebred Siberian Huskey, named after one of his favorite CSN songs, Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.  She has one brown eye and one blue eye!  And I saved it in his diary, the story of how he became a father of sorts, for the first time.

Every Person is Uneak

Yesterday I picked up my youngest child from Sunday School; she was carrying a paper with notes, a diagram, and this critical message: 

"I think that god think's that every Person is uneak in there one way.  God still loves you even if you do not think you did something good."

This is why I write diaries for my children.  Because each is uneak in there one way.

When I write to my children, I always try to capture their exact words, spelling, grammar, phrasing.  And, in the twenty years since I've been writing and reading to them from the diaries, they always cherish the entries where I quote them directly the most. 

What I Want to Be When I Grow Up, Again. . . and. . . Again

My middle daughter was home from boarding school for the weekend looking for high schools to transfer to for her junior year next year.  At 15, having survived an early and tumultuous initiation into adolescence, she is starting over, shedding skins, re-inventing herself.  She is having the "second grow up" she predicted she'd need some day. 

In her diary, at age 4, I recorded the first of her "What I Want to Be When I Grow Up" stories:

To Perri, (age 4) February 25, 1996

"Mommy, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A writer." 

"Oh, I want to be a ballerina."

"Oh, that's nice."

"And in my second grown up, I'm going to be a fire trucker. . . No, a doctor.  And in my third grow up, I'm going to be a dresser."

"A dresser?  What's that?"

"Like Linda!  A dresser!"

"Oh, a hairdresser!  Sure."

"Mom, am I going to have a second grow up?"

"Sure." 

I always liked her idea - "a second grow-up," and the instinctive awareness she possessed that assured her she could be all she wanted to be in life.  Her imagination seemed to be fully loaded for the task, which she conceived of as very. . . challenging:

To Perri (age 5) October 17, 1997

"I know what I want to be when I grow up," you said.

"Oh?"

"A doctor, or a policeman. . ."

"Oh."

"I want to be a policeman 'cause they're like in charge of the world."

"Oh."

"Aren't they?  What's the world mean?  Is it the same as the Universe?  Landon says it isn't. . . "

"Ummmm. . . "

"No, I know what I want.  I want to grow up to be God!". . .

At 15, her imagination seems to be driving her into less omnipotent, more realistic, territory, such as being a music therapist or an entrepreneur. 

Today, my daughter and the diary stories I keep for her reassure me that transformation is possible, and there are always new beginnings.

First Loves

I like to write in my children's diaries about romance.  When it begins, how it grows, the inevitable conflict, crises and longing. . . the suspense and the joy.  For each of my three children, there has been - and still is - a first, special someone.  A special someone who has claimed a place in their hearts for life, because first crushes, first loves, have lasting power, however they end.  The diaries save the history, and charm of these awakenings.  I tell these stories from my point of view, what I observe, or intuit.  And when I'm lucky, what they confide in me. 

A parent sees certain things about a child in love first.  My father tells the story about how he knew I'd met the man I was going to marry like this:

One sunny summer day, I came to visit him where he was working in his garden.  I seemd like I wanted to talk.  I asked him if he would coach a friend of mine about his career.  I'd often asked this favor of him, but never for a male friend.  Never for a male friend I described with such. . . . enthusiasm.  My father says, he knew, and, he knew before I did, and he was right.

Those are the stories I write and save for my children.  My youngest is in the midst of one.  There's a special someone for her, and he doesn't know it yet, the place he has in her heart.  But the diary does. 

By The Time We Got to Woodstock

This morning I opened my daughter's diary, my 10-year old's, and I was just going to make a quick note about the song she's practicing for an audition next week: Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell which she learned last week on the way to visit her sister at boarding school.  It was a beautiful sunny day and I put the Ladies of the Canyon c.d. on and climbed in the back (while her Dad drove) and showed her the lyrics and we sang along.

Well, I ended up writing six pages in her diary.  Because I had to tell her about the road trip and how we actually stopped and visited the site of the Woodstock Festival!  And the millions of wonderful questions she asked about Woodstock, and how intrigued she was about the idea that Joni Mitchell wrote the anthem, Woodstock, without even having been there, and

"Was she mad that she coulndn't get there?" she asked because she always wants to know how people feel about things. 

Then I wrote about homework, which sounds boring, but this part of the entry was really for me - writing to her about her learning challenges in the diary really made me aware of some things I want to bring to her school conference, her teacher and her specialist.  I want to understand how she learns so I can help her understand how she learns.  And, well, six pages later. . . we've covered some wonderful territory, and as far as the audition goes, now there's a plot line to follow. . . what will she sing at the audition?  And what part will she get?