I don’t exactly have “dying letters” to my girls, however I do have what I’d call “pocket journals” for each child. They are 4-inch square hardcover books filled with blank pages. When I became pregnant with each child, I started their journal. I did not write everyday, but only on certain milestones (or whenever I remembered!) which grew farther apart as the child got older…I’m talking years here. I wrote about their developmental progress, who their friends were, their personalities at the time, little anecdotes, and always ended with how much I loved them. There are even a couple poems I wrote to them.
I was looking at these pocket journals recently, wondering what made me think of starting them. I haven’t a clue, but I am so glad I thought of it. The girls don’t know I have them yet and I don’t know when I will show them their books, but I see how they are wonderful snapshots of their lives at the moment and how precious they were (and are) to me. Someday they will undoubtedly enjoy reading about themselves, and most important of all they will know how much they are loved…it’s all there in black and white.
Co-author of Cherry Blossoms in Twilight, a WWII Japan memoir of her mother's childhood; author of Poems That Come to Mind, for caregivers of dementia patients; Co-author/Editor of Battlefield Doc, a medic's memoir of combat duty during the Korean War; life writing enthusiast; loves history and culture (especially Japan), poetry, and cats