In the months before my dad died we went through a lot of Stuff. Some of it was his, some was my moms, some from his parents and in-laws.
One of the boxes he showed me held a bunch of diaries from my maternal Grandmother. I never knew they existed, so I started looking through them until I came to 1971. I slowly flipped through until I came to July 17. Here’s what I found:
It’s a treasure for me to be able to see her handwriting again, to read what she had to say to us, about me.