Writing For My Life (June 2013)

Ours is quite a horrible, almost unbelievable story but it is becoming alarmingly clear that we are not so rare.  Coming across other stories, mother’s, father’s, children, is like manna from Heaven.  I’m not relieved other’s are hurting.  In fact, I’m sickened and it is incredibly painful to read their similar, heartbreaking stories, but for so long I could find nothing, no one else living this nightmare.

I have kept a daily journal of my own family’s tragedies for as far back as I can remember, detailing every tragic moment,  highlighting each triumph, marking every injustice, and giving thanks for each miracle, big and small, along the way.  I thought it a quirky habit, born of necessity, for self-help and healing. Maybe this was not as self-centered as I once thought.   Recalling is like reliving and is incredibly painful.  But, failure to recall…