Unitarian Hymnal Sing-along

In which Kathryn attempts to sing a different song everyday from the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, 'Singing the Living Tradition'. Earlier posts are based on songs from the Reader's Digest songbooks she found at yard sales as a child, including: 'Reader's Digest Treasury of Best Loved Songs', 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook', and 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook of Faith and Joy'. Bonus Folk song material from: 'Folk Song USA', by John and Alan Lomax.

30 September 2005

"Memory Lane"

Another song that hits my break point in an awkward place. And sure, I could sing these songs in any key I please, but part of the fun, the first time through, is playing and singing together. My piano playing isn't quite up to transposing and sightreading simultaneously.

Ah, memories. I've written in a journal off and on since I was 15, which is to say, quite a while. I haven't written daily the whole time, often just when I felt the urge. And for some crazy reason, I had the urge to read through all those old journals, in order. Eventually, theoretically, I would make it up to the present day. And then I could read just my most recent journals as I finish them, get a snap shot of the recent life of me.

People have often said to me, "How lucky you are to have kept a journal all these years!" Maybe. There are precious tidbits in there, things I treasure having down on paper. But alas, they are surrounded with a oh so much proof of what an idiot I was for oh so many years. At the moment--and I've given myself a little breather the last couple of weeks--I'm up to my late college days. So painful. So striving. So oblivious to all common sense. And since I remember how the story goes, for the most part, I know that I don't get a whole lot of sense any time in the ensuing decade. Ugh.

One of my best, and oldest, friends thinks that I should just burn all my journals. My husband has no idea why I would put myself through this, if it's so painful. But I still want to do it, maybe just this once. It's clear that I can never let my daughter read these, while I am alive; and maybe eventually I will burn them, but just this once, I'm going to read through all the pain, all the stupidity, and try to have some compassion for that much younger me. I think I've turned out better than I would have thought, if I only had these journals to rely on for the evaluation.

Thankfully, I also know that these journals capture only a part of what my life was then. Nothing could ever capture it all, now, or then. And occassionally I do read something, remember something, and ah: the memories can also be sweet.



At 3:01 PM, Anonymous binky said...

Burning doesn't seem so connected to forgiving that younger you...it's impossible to excise her. And today you would not be so wise without her. You don't have to abandon her to realize you don't want to do all those things again. And besides, you might want to share the tales with your granddaughter.


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