Before You Box Up the Past, Ask This One Question First
{Today is my 17th Blogging Anniversary!}
“To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they’re too exhausted to be any longer. The people they don’t recognize inside themselves anymore. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into.”
– Heidi Priebe
Sometimes the Ripples Overwhelm Me
Seventeen years ago today, on August 8, 2008, I clicked “Publish” on my very first blog post. I didn’t fully realize what I was starting, only that something inside me wanted to come out in written words.
That ripple is still moving.
I’ve changed since then—sometimes slowly, sometimes in an instant. When I go back and reread those early posts, I see I’m not the same person anymore. No one is. We let go of some things as we age, and grow into other things.
So in this year of Ripple, it feels like the right moment to finally open something else from the past, something I’ve wanted to read for a long time: my mother’s journals.
I’d already read a collection of letters Mama wrote to me to be read after she died. They moved me when I first read them. I’m moved still as I remember them now.
But reading her journals feels different.
My older sister has kept them safe since our mother died in 2010. I borrowed them from my sister months ago—scattered pages, some numbered, most not, held together in a clear plastic bag. A few are clipped together.
Yet still I didn’t read them. Maybe it felt intrusive. Or maybe I liked the idea of still having something unread from my mom. Something left to discover.
Until now.
The One Question That Changed Everything
I sit down in my chair, her papers in my hands. But before I start reading, I pause once again. I ask myself: “Should I just leave the past alone? Let the good memories be enough? Why risk discovering something I might not want to know?”
I brush off the questions.
Until a more important question surfaces that is too loud to ignore:
“What might I still learn from my mother?”
This question is enough. I give myself permission to get comfortable and start reading.
“Just In Case Someone Reads This”
I leaf through the pages. Seeing my mother’s handwriting after all these years is jarring. I pull out the top sheet.
The very first sentence gives me a chill:
“Just in case someone finds and reads this, just realize that much of the time I was writing, I was under tremendous stress and may have written some things I normally wouldn’t say.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
She continues:
“If it should offend anyone, it was not meant to. I just wrote what I felt at that time to release pressure.”
What am I about to uncover about my precious mom?
Her Words, Her Life—and Mine Too
The next page I pick up is an unsent letter to Mama’s father—Granddaddy, to me—on his 86th birthday. He was still alive at the time, but struggling in poor health and dementia.
In her letter, Mama pours out an apology for having to put him in a care facility once he could no longer stay at home. She writes it was the hardest day of her life.
I cry when I read about some of her other hardest days—because they are about me. The day my first husband left. The day I found out our sweet baby Kali might not make it.
I see how my pain was also her pain.
I continue reading. In another entry, she writes:
“I’m 53 and I’ve lived my whole life trying to please either my daddy or my husband. That’s why I enjoy being alone so much. I only have myself to please.”
That line touches something in me. It still resonates. Not just for her, but for all among us longing to meet other people’s expectations.
And I also laugh as I read. I hear her grumble about Granddaddy always being either too hot or too cold and still wanting his own mother (Mama Coleman was still alive then!) to keep tending to his every need.
I’m reminded that this mother I remember so admirably was also beautifully human. Her words are that of a real person living amidst uncertainties and complexity in a complicated world.
Just like me and my words in my world.
Rippling Forward
Reading Mama’s words is helping me look more kindly at my own past self. Looking at the one who blogged in 2008 with ideas that don’t always fit comfortably with who I am in 2025, I see I need to give myself grace for the changes, just as I’m giving grace to Mama.
Maybe I’ll finish reading her journals by September 8, the 15th anniversary of her death. Or maybe not; I’m not rushing. I’m not sure I want to ever finish reading.
I’ll always have more to learn from my mother. Like how to be kinder, more resilient, more courageous. I want her ripples to forever touch and change my life.
Her journals also show me the value of ripples I send forward myself—things I do and stories I tell and words I write, as my mom said, “just in case someone reads this.”
To honor my rippling, this year I’ve been working on:
- Creating photos albums for my grandchildren, pictures they can look at when they’re older to visualize where they came from
- Publishing life stories in my Storyworth book, remembering making mud pies at Mamaw’s every Mississippi summer and surviving a category 4 hurricane on my honeymoon
- Gathering my end-of-life paperwork—hopefully not to be needed soon, but because loving my children in the future also means getting my things in order now
Finding Not Just Mama, But Me
Just as I’ve changed from who I was, I will continue to change into who I’ll be. Just like my mother did. And just like my own children and grandchildren will—all of us fully human, complete in our fragility and also in our strength.
“But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honor what emerges along the way.”
– Heidi Priebe
In the meantime, before my mother’s journals get boxed back up again, I’ll keep showing up for her truths on the loose-leaf pages in her blue and black scribbles.
I don’t know what else I’ll find on these pages. But I do know who I’ll find. My mama.
And I’ll also find me.
Because of who she was, I am who I am. It’s how life ripples on, one generation through another.
Coming and going. Yet always still here.
Forever.
Is there someone in your past who still teaches you new lessons? Share in the comments.
Read More:
- Why Do You Blog? You Might Be Surprised {on my 16th blogging anniversary}
If you blog, why? Here’s a surprise reason you might not expect. - The Sweet Spot of Your Project {on my 15th blogging anniversary}
When you want to do something, but you don’t know how, find the sweet spot in this day. - Letters from Mama
The envelope containing the letters said, “Open only at my death.” But I couldn’t wait. - Mama’s Advice {from my first blog}
Ten good pieces of advice about life from my mom
Lisa, this post brings back so many memories. 2008 is when we first “met” and at that time, you and your sisters were busy with caring for your sweet mama and then making decisions about a home and then her death in 2010. It’s when you and I bonded and I am so thankful for that time that God brought us together. Happy Anniversary for blogging!
This post is so tenderly precious. I love your writing style anyway, but this one really brings the tears. I’m so thankful that you are able to see how your mama’s life has rippled down to you, just as your life will ripple down to your children and grandchildren. In doing that, your mama’s life ripples along to them as well.
Love you, Friend.
Oh, I’m so glad you shared these memories of our own, Dianna! I’m so thankful for having you as a blogging friend and a real friend too. If only we lived closer, I’m sure we would also be in-person friends. 🙂
I sat down and read another 30 minutes yesterday in my mother’s journals, and it was such a sweet time. I wish I could go back to those years and pay more attention to the heartaches she was enduring as she cared for her own parents. She was shielding us kids from much of it, but my older self now knows how I could have been a better support for her through that. Life does ripple on….
This is a moving post, Lisa. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks, Shari. Every life has so many stories in it….
You so deeply touched my heart with this post about your mother’s journal, Lisa. I still have letters that my mother exchanged with her mother to go through and read and sort. This so makes me wish my mom had kept a journal, but I’m hoping I can glean insight into her world and world view. Blessings, my friend, and Happy Blogaversary!
How interesting it will be to go through your mother and grandmother’s letters, Martha! I marvel when I look back at how often my mother wrote long letters every week to her own mother and her mother-in-law. I don’t have any of those, but I remember her talking about writing them and how they often wrote about what they were harvesting from their garden that week. 🙂
This is my favorite post that I’ve read of yours. It is so very real and honest. It’s tangible. Thank you. I have journals and journals and blog posts and pictures to leave behind covered in so many prayers that the next generations will care for cherish and learn from and laugh at and accept as human. I pray my next generations will offer such grace and seek to learn from my life left open.
Thank you, Lisa!
You sound like my older sister, Lisa. She has lots and lots of writings that she is leaving behind for her three daughters. I have mixed feelings about my kids reading my old journals; some might be fine, but some were for my eyes only. ha. That will be on me to sort that out before I die, I suppose! 🙂
🙂
Happy blog anniversary! What a treasure trove from your mom. I’ve thought about leaving an “in the event of my death” letter for my kids, but have not written it yet. We have gotten our end-o-life papers together and we’re starting to go through things now to get rid of so they won’t have to.
Thanks, Barbara. I think I wrote a “if I die” letter YEARS ago for my kids but I have no idea where it is now or what it even said. I think they were both still young at the time. When my uncle died last November, he was very organized with his end-of-life papers, but even then, it was still a lot of work to sort through. It’s motivating me to get my act together too. Good for you and Jim in getting yours together already and going through boxes. I’ve been throwing away a lot of things the past two weeks as we prepare for new flooring. I’ve kept too much through the years. ha.
This is so touching, Lisa. I’m so glad you have your mama’s journal and her letters to you. Yes, life ripples on… Love, hugs and blessings to you!
Thank you, Trudy. It truly is a gift to be able to “hear” my mom’s voice again through her written words. It’s almost like she’s sitting in the room with me. Love to you too!
Thank you for sharing this very personal post.
Thanks, Maria. I’ve been so touched by my mother’s journals that I just had to share something about them.
Oh, my goodness, this post stirs up all kinds of thoughts and feelings about my own blogging journey, my family, and even what I should be doing with my old journals!
Same here, Michele. We have put out a lot of words into the universe the past few years – I’m thankful I do NOT have to go back and read all my words. ha. But I do want to be a good steward with what I say, as I know you do too.
Lisa, Happy blogging anniversary and thank you for sharing this personal post with us at #weekendcoffeeshare.
Thanks, Natalie. I can’t believe I’ve been blogging for 17 years! I had no idea what a journey it would be.
Such a beautiful post Lisa. And what a precious gift your mother left for you all! Indeed the generational ripple continues.
Like you I have completed Scrapbooking Photo Albums for my daughters & four older grandchildren (still in progress for the three younger ones) as they receive their albums for their 18th birthday gift).
And Congratulations on your blogging anniversary, that’s amazing!
Blessings, Jennifer
I just love that you’ve created and are continuing to create scrapbooks for your daughters and grandchildren. Having made scrapbooks for my girls each school year, I know how much time it takes! But it is worth it. I’m continuing to sort through a backlog of photos and it’s precious to revisit the memories as I go through them.
I’m glad we’ve been blogging friends for quite awhile now, Jennifer!
My Mom saved many things she felt my brothers and I would enjoy having and she compiled a scrapbook for each of us of photos and other memorabilia from our births through high school years. I have recently been downsizing and going through not only those tangible memories…but a lot I saved over the years as an adult. I have letters she kept that I wrote to her when on trips and I kept a letter she wrote to me when she went to Greece (my brothers and I paid her fare for that trip) and was able to stay with former neighbors, the man at that time in Greece was the American attache at the Embassy. She stayed with them. That letter is so full of the amazing joy that trip was for her. And yes, I can hear her when reading her words.
What a treasure trove of memories you have from your mom, Lynn! Those all sound so precious. I’m glad you have them and can go through them on your own time. And I love that story that you all sent her to Greece and she stayed with the attache. Thoughtful children! 🙂
The “Greece ” time for my Mom was in 1980. I had been on a group tour to Israel in 1979 and we had a day and a half stop-over in Athens. The former neighbors from when I was a senior in high school had just moved to Greece and it had been 20 years since we had seen each other. I phoned them and they took me out to dinner! They told me if I could get my Mom to Greece, they would take care of all the rest (and they did). When our families knew each other as neighbors in 1960-61, both my Mom and the neighbor woman discovered they both were artists….very fine artists. They took some classes together and dreamed about how wonderful it would be if they could ever be in Athens and sketch art work sitting at the Parthenon! 21 years later….they did!
Wow – that is ALL a huge amazing story, Lynn! I love this. Such a gift that all those things “rippled” into place at just the right time. And also that your mom was willing to go! My mother talked about wanting to travel but she rarely actually went anywhere. My dad traveled some for work, and she would sometimes go with him, but not often.
Hey, Lisa. Your post resonated with me. I was 70 in Dec last year and I realised I am in God’s waiting room and who knows I have left. I am am writing a letter to each of our family members. My youngest grandson is four and my oldest 14. It makes me sad to know I will not beyond a point continue following their life’s journey. I will only leave positives in the letters.
I hope my blog which I started in 2012 continues. Maybe I bequeath something in will to pay for its upkeep. 🙂
It’s a beautiful gift that you’re creating for your family members to write a letter to each of them. Even the youngest one will treasure your letter years from now, I’m sure! And you bring up a question I haven’t considered…what will happen to my blog when I’m no longer here to pay for it?
Your mother’s letters/journal are beautiful keepsakes. Sometimes it’s easier to communicate in the written word vs verbally. I’ve journalled on paper & on-line over the years & have always pondered whether to keep or toss now in my 8th decade. I’m not convinced my son would read them. Someone suggested a donation to the provincial archives as there’s often social history in those journals. Journalling was a much-needed emotional release. Your mother’s written words are a beautiful gift to you.
I share your dilemma; I’m not sure anyone would even want to read my journals. ha. But I wonder if my mother thought that too? And now here we are, her daughters, reading them, and some granddaughters have also shown interest. I love your idea of perhaps donating your writings to the provincial archives. That would be quite an amazing gift.
oh wow I am continually amazed how we both travel the same path so often. first I must say I copied both the quote from Heidi Preibe to add to my journal to prayer and meditate upon. Secondly this post is so moving and insightful wisdom about your word of the year. wow. And lastly I just recently began a slow review of my old journals reflecting. on moments when God spoke to me and led me closer and what I also found were also emotional moment like your mama wrote about which I had forgotten and wondered too what would it would be like when, not if, my daughters, read these words later in life…. you gave me a peek into the future… I feel ok leaving my journals for them to read later after I am gone even with my negative and emotional times. more human I guess because I know there is lots of hope rippling through those pages too. Such a good post here today, Lisa . Thanks for your honesty and congrats for all the years of faithful blogging.
I’m glad you enjoyed the Heidi Preibe quote too! Funny – after I had already written the post, I ran across it in an email from James Clear, and decided it would fit perfectly with this post, so I added it.
I love that you’re doing a slow review through your own journals. I aspire to doing something like that one day… As is, I’ve given instructions for everyone to just throw away/delete my old writings. But I’m not fully happy with that option either.
Thanks for being such an encouragement to me through our blogging journeys, Jean. I’m thankful we’re rippling through life together. 🙂
Very open and vulnerable post, Lisa. As a journal keeper, I worry about people reading my journals after I’m gone. I destroyed many of my early journals, but have kept recent ones. I understand her apologies at the beginning. Beautifully shared.
Thanks, Marsha. I’ve deleted a few of my early journals, too. I wouldn’t want anybody reading some of those things. ha. Yet I still have a lot of journals still around. My current request is for my husband and kids to just get rid of them without reading them once I die. 😉
Happy Blog-versary. I think that writing and sharing photos is a good way to connect with others and also to share kindness around the world.
I love that you have your mother’s journals. My mom wrote mostly about daily activities. But she save EVERY letter I ever wrote her and I have those letters.
Thanks, Willow. Wow – that says a lot that your mother kept every letter you wrote to her! I would guess that makes you feel quite cherished by her. Such a gift to also read the things your mom wrote about her daily activities. So interesting.
This is absolutely precious, Lisa. What a gift to keep learning from your mom. I’ve journaled for most of my life. A year or two ago I was reading in some old ones for some reason, and it occurred to me that I didn’t want anyone to read that after I died. So I chunked them. I appreciated seeing the growth, but I was a different person then, like you said. There was also one or two when I was in a very dark place and really struggling. I’d grown past those times, but there was something about getting rid of those journals that felt like another kind of release—like a final letting go and moving on.
I completely understanding you chunking your old journals, Ashley. I have several from way back that I completely trashed too. I glanced through a few of them and decided they wouldn’t be helpful to anyone who might find them one day. 😉 I also agree that it can be quite freeing to do that. The lessons we learned are still inside us; we don’t have to keep all the old verbiage to prove it. Who we are can be proof enough!
I really liked this post! We are knee deep into going through memories. We don’t declutter, just regularly toss items when broken or out used their usefulness. The kids take or get gift some things Of course a lot went out as the five of them moved out Grandkids love going up to the attic and coming back down with treasures. Loved your statement of goals I also am doing Storyworth. visiting from 373 Senior Salon Pit Stop #48, 50, 51
You sound like my daughter, Linda. She is so good at regularly getting rid of stuff when it no longer serves her. I can do that to a small extent, but I also can put things in a drawer or closet “for now” until I decide I have time to really think about it. ha. I love the image of your grandchildren roaming around your attic and discovering treasures. Beautiful. I’m so glad you’re doing a Storyworth book too! I just printed a second copy of mine so I can give a copy to each of my two girls.
First off, happy blogiversary, as we now know, I am just three years older than you in blog terms. I’ve changed since I started, too – some of it the same (same house, partner/husband, some of the same friends, same reading tastes, was a runner then and am now) and some changed (married, had unsuccessful IVF, some friends have died, have run marathons, left work and started my own business). Your words about your mum are so beautifully put, very moving. Best of luck as you continue to read over her journals.
I love how you’ve looked at things that have stayed the same and things that have changed through your years at your blog. That’s an exercise I should think about too! Thanks for the well-wishes for reading more of my mom’s journals. I’ve discovered that I like having my husband around as I’m reading them so I can say, “Hey, listen to what my mom says about this!”
Lisa,
I’d not had a chance to read this when you first posted it, and it is beautiful and meaningful beyond words . . . and beyond your mother’s life here on earth. I’m so glad you have her letters and her journals–a very part of herself to carry with you, from which you are still learning and which remind you of your mama’s love. I”m so glad you kept and read them. It’s a brave thing to do, but also a comforting thing.
I begged my father for years to write me a letter, and he finally did, on five little note papers, expressing a lifetime of love. I’m sooo glad I begged him, and now I have that letter nearly 20 yrs after his passing. I begged Mother to do the same, though she has certainly written to me over the years, whether a short letter or thank-you cards (w/ notes) and my baby scrapbook, where she wrote about my young life. She also has written a number of journals which I know I’ll treasure one day, but it’s the day I never want to come.
I’m glad you have your mother’s *written* words to bring you love and comfort still and also that you are rippling this practice onto your children. Your words to them will be such a treasure.
Thank you so much for sharing, and this post reminds me of the famous John Donne quote: “Letters mingle souls.” Oh, ’tis so true!
xo
Lynn
I’m glad you begged your father for that letter, too, Lynn. What a treasure to have. Years ago, my sister convinced my dad to at least partially fill out a journal of sorts, answering questions about his life. He didn’t like doing that kind of thing, but I’m glad he did. Maybe that will be next for me to read! (Hmm…I wonder what that is…I’m sure my sis must have it!) I’m thankful you still have your mother’s verbal words with you in the present, and those written words for both now and the future. I’m thankful I have YOUR words in writing too! They’ve been a constant source of encouragement. Love you, Lynn!
Happy blogging anniversary, Lisa! This is such a precious post and what a treasure your mom has left you and your family. It is interesting to think about what my children will find in my old Bible Study books and journals. Praying they will leave a lasting impact, driving them closer to Jesus. Beautiful post!
Thanks, Joanne. Blogging years go by quickly, yes? Yes, we do leave behind quite a bit of words. I’ve been clearing off some shelves and I’ve come across many words of mine that probably just need to go in the trash. lol. If I don’t even want to reread them, I doubt my children will. 😉
Oh Lisa … thank you for sharing this. I have my dad’s computer in a closet and have yet to plug it in since he died in 2019. I think for the same reasons you put off reading your mom’s journals. I’m so glad she recorded all those thoughts, and that you are now able to learn from them–about her and about yourself. Also, congrats on your blogging anniversary! Your words are always an encouragement to me.
I understand your hesitancy to plug in your dad’s computer, Lois. There’s something special about still having something to unwrap from our parents. It’s been 15 years since my mom died, so I’ve waited long enough. 🙂
Lisa, such a wonderful post. Featuring your post tomorrow. 🙂
Thank you for featuring my post at the linkup, Steph. I appreciate how dependable you are with it!
I don’t think I would have been courageous enough to read my mother’s journals if she had written any, but on the other hand I understand you saying you are not sure you ever want to finish reading your mother’s journals.
A very moving post.
Courage is a good word to use here, Cat. Although I trust my mother’s good intentions and sweet spirit in her writings, it still takes some courage to open up her journals, not knowing what I’ll discover. I read some again yesterday and found them to be such a delight to “hear” her again, even in her moments of frustration.
Dear Lisa
I have now read this more than once, and I feel what you and your mom wrote in so many ways. Congratulations, your post will be featured this Monday at SSPS 374. Thanks for sharing.
I appreciate you featuring my post at the SSPS linkup, Esme!
This is such a beautiful post, Lisa. It resonated with me so much. My mom passed in 2002, and I’ve been a little afraid to read her journals, so I’ve never read them. She wrote a lot of them, and I know they must have been helpful to her. You’ve given me courage to think about reading them. (Hopefully, anyway!) I’ll be featuring this post at Thursday Favorite Things today. 🙂
Well, if you do decide to read your mom’s journals, I hope it will be an enjoyable experience, Pam. I read more just this morning from my mom’s writings. I both laugh and cry as I read. Today I read that she was worried before my birth that she would go into labor and have to deliver me in a bomb shelter (it was during the Cuban missile crisis era). That didn’t happen tho. ha. Thanks for featuring my post at the linkup!
Oh, Lisa, what a beautiful post. I love that you’re getting to know your momma even more and yourself.
I do shudder at the thought of someone reading my journals and how they might hurt as I express my feelings. I’m going to have to think on that one.
Your post received the most clicks in August for our Grace & Truth Link-Up, and I will be highlighting it tomorrow on my blog.
Blessings to you, my friend,
Maree
I mean, on Friday.
Happy Blogaversary! Oh wow I have no words Lisa. This is so touching you’ve made me speechless. Beautiful just Beautiful!
I appreciate you sharing this with Sweet Tea & Friends this month sweet friend. I’m so happy you’re here.
{{Hugs}}
Happy BlogaversaryLisa! Seventeen years of blogging is amazing! What a beautiful heart towards your mother’s letters, “I want her ripples to forever touch and change my life.”