Spent part of the day sorting through souvenirs from our Middle East trip. Then, just for giggles, decided to tag each item. Just as if it was an electronic item, but instead of an metatag, I actually wrote, printed and pasted an identifying tag for each item… just like in a museum. “Elephant bought in Thailand as reminder of our first elephant ride.”
Once I got started, I couldn’t stop and went around the house tagging pictures “Morning Star Beach in St. Thomas VI (circa 1995). Memorable moment…. Being sung to sleep by frogs at night.” This exercise led to a reminder that everything and everybody has a story. In a conversation with my niece, she discovered that I used to be a skier. Known her all her life, but she doesn’t know my story. Who knows my story? Who will tell my story? Just read obituary of friend’s husband and got a chance to read his “story” (aka obituary). It was then that I realized I better get started writing my own story.
My story, like most, has evolved in pieces. There’s the young me, but my parents have passed away so they can’t tell that story. There’s the young adult me that only I know, and then the next phase.. the married me, can be documented by my husband, but he only knows his half of that story.
So tomorrow I begin to write my story.