Only this morning, reading a romance novel and finding a sentence in it, did i realise: it was throughout the years a wonderful outlet for my fears and anger and grief. It let me not live with it all looked inside me. It let me write them out on paper, "in secret" to speak it out even if to some other myself.
Through the years, many diaries, small or big, fancy as this one or very plain, with pen or pencil, all writing openly what I felt about what happened around me, with me.
Thanks mother for that wonderful gift. Even if you are no more here, for so many years now, I also speak with you every end of the year.
My mother was born a 26th December, like my biggest great son. He will be with me this year. My mother would be happy to hear, i have now 5 grand children and one with me in London this year. Already 19 year old!
Give a diary as gift to someone, it is a wonderful outlet, once one uses it.
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