Why I started writing in old books I have adopted and made my diary. Mostly for fear that someone else would read it. I feel more in control of it if it's in my drawer or near me or in my backpack. Or something that I can throw in a fire and burn after I've written the words that escaped my heart for good hopefully and others I read and reread so that I never forget, and I always treasure the love
Very beautiful and moving, Lily. To think your mother is near, and sheltered by the cypress trees and among the clear call of the bells. With kind thoughts, Á.
I read your poem about your Ma dying. That was clever having words turn to stars.
I didn’t do it on purpose-- I think it was an old version of Word that took my words away.
Yes, it was an accident of technology, but perhaps it was also a metaphor : )
Why I started writing in old books I have adopted and made my diary. Mostly for fear that someone else would read it. I feel more in control of it if it's in my drawer or near me or in my backpack. Or something that I can throw in a fire and burn after I've written the words that escaped my heart for good hopefully and others I read and reread so that I never forget, and I always treasure the love
Oh the tragedy of losing those reflections! But there they are somehow in every clear night sky.
Hugs from your friends Jan and May in Belgium. How special to read and see this.
Oh how deep our mothers love
in us and all around
Forever for us
Those stars. My stars - so random
Layers of grief in time
Unforgettable
Very beautiful and moving, Lily. To think your mother is near, and sheltered by the cypress trees and among the clear call of the bells. With kind thoughts, Á.
Thank you so much Lily for sharing your thoughts and feeling. Hope to meet you again sooner or later
How touching, Lily. Bittersweet as it is with life. Thank you for sharing. Hugs from afar.