I recently discovered my journal I wrote in 1995. After flipping through its pages I said a prayer of gratitude. I am so very, very thankful Facebook – or any form of social media – was not around in 1995. Whew! I’m sure instead of venting in a private journal I would have shared – overshared – because that’s what geniuses do. See, in 1995 I labored under the mistaken notion that I was some kind of undiscovered and untapped smarty pants. Now eighteen years later I can assure you that was not the case. I also discovered my claim of being a “much better speller before spell check” is completely unfounded.
Here are a couple of gems though:
February 21, 1995 (I taught my niece Nic when she was a Sunbeam (3 -4 years old) in church).
“Last week our lesson was about the Holy Ghost. I asked the kids to draw a picture of something that had to do without lesson. Then they had to tell about it. First, Nic drew a picture and I asked her what it was.
‘My mom and dad.’
‘Well, what does your mom and dad have to do with the Holy Ghost?’
‘Well,’ pause, ‘they killed him.’
Ok, try again.
‘What about this down here?’ I pointed to some separate scribbling.
‘That’s a tie.’
‘What does that have to do with the Holy Ghost?’
‘It’s His tie.’
‘What about this?’
I am starting to wise up, ‘and whose hat is it?’
“You think she needs a new teacher? But when she got home and her parents asked her what she had learned, her reply to them was along the lines of:
‘About the Holy Ghost. He guides us and helps us – he’s not mean’.”
Looking back, that kind of defines our relationship.
Another entry from January 23 –
“Tomorrow is Bubba’s 2nd birthday. What a charmer she already is. A boy CC (her mother) babysits (henceforth known as G-Man) was being a stinker to Nic (he’s about the same size as Nic). Little Bubba got in between them and pushed him up against the wall. Her mom caught her but Bubba managed to squeeze in a couple more pushes before [physically] being separated.”
I also found this poem I wrote for her second birthday:
“On a Wyoming winter’s day
a special spirit came our way.
From the moment of her first cry
she forever changed dreams and lives.
How empty our lives must have been
without our Krista Lyn.
In her dark eyes there is steady spark
a power not seen beating with her heart.
At the tip of her fingers the world spins
her lips always spread in a wide grin.
Nothing seems to be able to slow her –
and there is an angel on her shoulder.
A soul full of fire and mirth
proving to us what life is worth.
A special soul borrowed from heaven
dancing eyes reminding of the precious gift given.
With her first heartbeat our lives began again –
I don’t know how I lived without Krista Lyn!”
It appears I have successfully saved the redeeming entries from 1995. I now think this journal can disappear. For good.