Its Mama….
Writing Nonsense in a Journal
The first journal I remember receiving was when I was about ten or eleven years old. It was light blue and had a key..a very important thing for a budding writer who had four siblings.
I received it as a Christmas present the same year I received a pink bottle of “Hot Pants” fluff perfume from my Mama who also went by the code name Santa Claus. I confess to a bit of shock over the name “hot pants” since I was a solid Christian young lady, but Mama said it smelled really good and she thought I would enjoy the “fluff” which of course, I did.
But it was the journal I received on which I could not wait to get my hands. I remember starting on January 1 right after Christmas because of course even then I loved all new beginnings and the journal started on that date as well. I was not a prolific writer but rather a passionate one. I remember starting out strong writing all the nonsense of my young life on a daily basis and did well for the first few weeks; however, when you are a young girl it is hard to come up with imaginative things to write on a daily basis so I started giving myself permission to skip days which led into skipping months which led into skipping often and before I knew it, the next Christmas had rolled around and it was time for a new journal.
At first, I felt guilty for leaving so many blank pages in that blue book, disappointed in myself that I had not been more active a writer, but Mama assured me it happens to the best of authors and to try again the next year.
I followed this start-strong-end-weak writing style until I met David Chism in the sixth grade. Mr. Chism was my English teacher at Flaherty Junior High School located in Flaherty, Kentucky. Upon learning that my mother was pregnant for the fifth time, my parents decided to move their children from the city of Radcliff, Kentucky out to the country in Flaherty, Meade County, Kentucky.
And, it was there that my writing journey genuinely took off.
The move from Radcliff to Flaherty was a very painful one for me. I left my two best friends, Janet Young and Debbie Haraway behind which totally changed the trajectory of my life. I went from playing daily out of doors, in doors, riding bikes, Barbie dolls, Barbie campers, Brownies, Girl Scouts, piano lessons, and in general being a very active do-er to an indoors, not so active, more household chore oriented, introvert. And, moving in the sixth grade right as my body was taking a huge hormone spurt, breasts, and all, didn’t make things easier.
I knew no one and had never had to experience being the “new girl” which was very hard for me. Add to that that the nearest neighborhood was two miles down the road and having parents too busy with babies and toddlers to take me to friends homes, it was a very, very lonely season in my life.
On the flip side of that loneliness was some good experience such as growing closer to my mother who also appeared lonely and overwhelmed with having three children six and under and two children 12 and above. We bonded over laundry, dishes, cooking, and the highlight of our week was going to Winn Dixie to buy groceries without the little kids!
I grew closer to my Mama during this season of our lives and she to me. I know now what happened is caused enmeshment or that of being overly close, with her knowing the details of my heart well and my knowing things about our home/family that in retrospect I should not have known. But, for us, it worked and I hold precious that season from the time I was 12 years old until I graduated as sacred time with my Mama.
Slowly, over time, she and I both grew accustomed to being “stuck at home” in the country and my walks around the pasture by myself become a frequent journey for me. At first, I walked the fence line, never straying from the inside of our property so that Mama could see me but later, I added taking my journal with me sitting on the bank of our pond and wrote nonsense in those journals and read with a passion.
I’m not sure how I was introduced to Judy Blume’s Are You There, God, It’s Me, Margaret but this was a life changing book for me. Margaret and I had a lot in common and I look back now and realize that this book helped stave off the loneliness I felt on our farm and also sparked my commitment to reading and writing. The more I read, the more I wrote. I read about every “girl-based” or neutral (Biographies, Auto biographies) in Flaherty Junior High School’s library. This was a Catholic influenced community and the sister in charge of the library (I think her name was Sister Carolita) was very strict on what I was able to read. And, while banning books was not a “thing” back then, the sisters were known to “black magic marker” out words they deemed inappropriate for junior high students. One of my favorite reads was the small autobiographies and biographies of significant men and women in our history. I read every single one of the women-focused books and very many of the men-focused.
It was by doing this that my very small world expanded a little. I seemed to understand that these individuals were real people who had exciting lives and deeper purpose such as Clara Barton (a nurse) and Juliette Lowe (a/k/a Daisy who founded the Girl Scouts) as well as others who I found living out lives to which I could aspire!
There were some dark books I somehow found such as Go Ask Alice and Carrie to name a few who opened up parts of life that I am not sure I totally understood but which made me grow a healthy fear of sex, drugs, and alcohol as well as teen bullying.
It was during this season that journaling became my best friend. I was lonely and my journal was a friend who was always there, ready to be written into and open to all my thoughts, dreams, and aspirations.
I continued to write throughout junior high and into high school where I truly had things to write about such as my best friend, Beth, band, and boys. For me, that included one significant boy, John, who was my biggest fan and encouraged me often to “write your sweet heart out, Lesa” and always gave me blank journals and new pens.
Later, the summer before I entered university, I shared my life goals in a burgundy journal writing what I wanted out of life and the axiom is true, be careful what you hope for and write down for it is likely to become true and so far, most of those college dreams have come to fruition even to this day.
I had an expanded world in college and some of my most consistent writing occurred during this season as a result from many literature, writing, and art appreciation classes were added to my curriculum and life.
Probably my favorite journaling started when I had my babies. I was so grateful to be a mother and started each of my children an individual journal which I still add to this very day. So many sweet memories of my children which bring smiles to my eyes and tears to my cheeks. I cherish that in the hustle, bustle of raising three children, I made time to journal about them. This tradition has continued with my granddaughters.
But perhaps my most meaningful journaling occurs now. At sixty I have more time, more mental space, and more desire to write knowing that really, I write for myself. Writing enables to me put to paper things which my extroverted self cannot seem to say in person.
I journal inconsistently but definitely passionately. And, while I still am not a daily journalist, I am a committed journalist and that makes all the difference in my life.
So, as we head further into 2023, and you are so inclined, take a moment to pause and write…your story
Blessings,
Mama
