After a friend unexpectedly passed away last Monday a blog was created to share memories of this amazing man who died too young; he was 46 years old. Many people shared conversations they had with him through this blog, myself being one of them. I found it both comforting and eerie when going through emails I found a perfect quote that he wrote about another person who unexpectedly died too soon and too young.
This past week I have thought a lot about my mom’s death. She died from lung cancer in June 2009. She was only 64 years old, also too young. But I had a nearly two year warning that she was likely to die too young and too soon. For a week after her death I stayed in her home in Florida alone, with the mission of finding what I called her treasures. Not the treasures of jewelry or even photographs, but of the written words she left behind.
My mom was a writer, a poet, and a human dictionary. I knew she had written poems while she lived with cancer. I had the conversation with her many times how I planned to do something with these poems after she was gone. I’m still processing what and how to do it, but I truly believe I have each poem she even wrote and kept.
Having her written word and that of my friend is more personal than having photographs. It’s proof that they were here, had their own thoughts and style of expression.
After my mom died I pressured myself to journal again, not for me, but for my children so that long after I am gone they will have my thoughts in my own handwriting. At some point I had to stop beating myself up and just do what works best for me, some handwriting and some typing. Each of these blog entries I first type and save on my laptop. “They” say anything typed on the Internet is permanent, but what if my future grandchildren can’t find it?
Wonderful words of yours, Daria. I completely agree about the power of a person's thoughts written in their own handwriting (with some typing thrown in!). <3 --Susan
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