Blogging and such ... I miss my journal

I was cleaning out my storage this weekend. My mother is having another episode and when she does, I purge. So, cleaning, donating, sorting, and I came across my journals. Handwritten and often misspelled, the earliest dating 1982. (Yes, I was alive and old enough to journal in 1982.) I found the name of a boy who broke my heart one of those early years (yes he's a facebook friend of mine but I WILL NEVER TELL. Well, maybe someday. With the right persuasion.) I wrote loving letters to "My Diary" as if she were a real person, my counselor and comforter and friend. I miss my journal. So this is now a journal of sorts, for the process, for the thoughts, for our journey. Because now I am not just writing the voyage of me, I am a contributing writer to the voyage of two more. Miss Elena, my blue eyed, brilliant, kind and WAAAY to beautiful nine year old daughter. And Mr. Alex, the sweetest little brown eyed, green converse clad little hand holder alive. Hope you enjoy, and stretch, and laugh, for then I will have served my purpose.