I'm on the phone with my sister and she's reading me parts of her attempts at a memoir. Mostly it's just ramblings about her first memories. Of me (apparently she thought I was annoying), our sister and brother, our cousins, our friends, her birthdays.
While reading it out, she happened to mention my very first blog, which was on MySpace. (I also remember having an account with Open Diary. Anyone else have one of those? I think my username was African Aggie.)
At one point I wrote every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. And then one day, I deleted most of the blogs, and just kept a few random ones. (I did re-write most of the ones I deleted into a real journal.)
Taking a look back is kind of like opening up a time capsule. Simple things like: my relationship with my brother, a time when I actually missed College Station (yeah, barely miss it now, haha), kisses from Khalil (who is now five! oh, how time flies!) This stuff dates back to like 2003!
The memories wash over you, and there's a sense of joy, accompanied by lots of laughter--even with the not so nice entries. This is why I like writing, journaling, scrap-booking....
... there's forever that record of how blessed I've been in life.