Every now and then I write a letter to my son. This is why.
I write it in a journal. Like the one in the picture :)
It is a used one. One we used for a photoshoot, so I can’t give it for anyone else.
My entries are usually a couple of pages long and I do it irregularly.
I did one this morning and the last one was October 2020.
It was just after we had moved into our rental while we renovate our home.
They are recordings of the every day.
This morning I was writing to him about how he had assembled all his lego on our bed. As I was writing, I heard him scurry-hop to the bathroom to do a ‘poo’.
Which he kindly described to me down the hallway.
He scurried because he left it to the last minute, so engrossed in what he was doing.
He hopped because he still has a limp from his broken leg. Something the doctor says hangs around for a month.
And yes I wrote his story down.
Before I closed the journal to get ready for school I read my last entry.
It was about an afternoon walk to the park near our house. One of those beautiful spring afternoons.
He talked all the way home, meeting one of our neighbours on the way. She was weeding her footpath.
It triggered a memory that I had already forgotten and it is only 8 months ago.
Imagine what I will have forgotten 18 years from now, when I give it to him.
When Jane Harbison isn’t teaching creativity, or writing about creativity here and on Instagram she is being creative, designing fabrics as a surface pattern designer.
