Diaries versus Journals
One of the projects I’m currently working on is to publish my Mother’s diaries. Throughout her high school years in the 1930’s, my Mother recorded her teen-aged worries, her homework struggles, all the boys, and all the fun.
A diary in the style of my Mother’s is a record of events, where she went, with whom, and most importantly, did she have a good time? I do not keep a diary. I’ve made a few feeble attempts, but could never stick to it. Journalling is a different task. Journalling speaks more to an exploration of thoughts and feelings. Or, what my Mother would have called ‘angst-riddled drivel’.
I journal when I am stressed. I explore whatever is bothering me to try and exorcise the source of my worry. I never go back and re-read anything in my notebooks, but I have never thrown one away either. They are there, in a box, ready to haunt me. If I ever do reread my journals in my dotage years they are markers of the times I found stressful, and not the fun I had. On the other hand, journalling has helped me process all my puny sorrows when I needed it most. After I’m gone from this world, I doubt if anyone will find it gratifying to labour through all that.
My Mother kept her high school diaries for the rest of her life. I know she reread them in her last few years because there is the occasional note in the margin in her shaky senior handwriting. I hope reliving those memories brought her some joy as she looked back on the girl she had been. She had plenty of time and a working fireplace in which to destroy all those notebooks but she never did. I like to think she left them behind as a marker of who she was, knowing her offspring would not be able to resist opening them. If they’ve been a labour to transcribe, (look at that handwriting) they’ve been a joy to read.
I am publishing my Mother’s diaries as a way to honour her memory. Printed all together they make a lovely book and a far more enjoyable read than anyone’s ‘angst-riddled drivel’.
My working title for her diaries?
“I Had a Swell Time”, Diary of a Young Girl Looking for Fun and Searching for Love in the 1930’s.
Stay safe everyone.
I’ve kept a journal for decades! Like you, past entries are languishing in a box. And, like you, I’ve never re-read a page!
I do try to write about joy as well as suffering. Two sides of the same coin???
That is a very good point. I will write about my joys too.
Thank you Jeanette.