Since I can remember I have kept a diary. I think I was in the fourth grade when Grandma Patton sent me a diary for Christmas as well as a pen. I could write whatever was on my mind. Whether it was that I hated my mom for something I probably got in trouble for or that she wouldn’t let me do whatever I wanted. If I’d only known then what I know now. I promised myself I’d never be like my mom, yet the honest truth is all kids can’t stand their parents as kids but so appreciate all they have done when we become parents ourselves.

I think when Mari was in the hospital that it was very therapeutic for me to write everything down. Two weeks after she died I remember telling Keith we had to go to the store and get me a journal. I started to write in it everyday. It became an outlet. I felt like sometimes all I ever did was say the same thing over and over again. But it didn’t matter if I was the only one to see it.

Then three months after she was gone I had all these thought swirling around in my head. My gut instinct kicked in and I knew I had to get them typed up. Those very thoughts became the very first post of this site. All of these ways I write have become an outlet for me. They have helped me with my grief journey. I feel blessed to be able to share them with others and people actually feel touched as a result.