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To start National Craft Month off on the right foot, I want to share a story that I blogged a while back. This subject is so dear to my heart. If you are not using your own handwriting on your projects, you need to start. Here is the reason why:
Today I want to share a story with you. Every time I teach a class I hear,,,
Today I want to share a story with you. Every time I teach a class I hear,,,
"I don't like my handwriting"
or
"My handwriting is ugly and messy"
or
"It is too hard to write by hand to journal, I would rather
use a computer"
I am hear to tell you there is a very good reason why you should
be putting your OWN handwriting down on your projects.
BECAUSE IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU, that's why.
Here is my story.
If you are a crier, get your tissue out now.
For some reason, every time I tell this story people end up bawling- including me.
This is my Grandmother, Gussie, and my two babies, way back in 1994!
Gussie was the light of my life. When the Hubs retired in late 1994, we
moved back to Texas and bought a house 5 minutes down the road from Gussie
so that I could always be near her.
My girls were so blessed to get to spend so much time with their
Great Grandmother while they were growing up.
Gussie was there for all the big days, and the little days, of our lives.
In about 2000, Gussie developed Rheumatoid Arthritis. It barely slowed her down.
Keeping up with DR's visits and medications at 85 was a little much,
so I pitched in to help out.
As time went on, I helped out a little more, and a little more.
Grocery shopping, house cleaning, making sure she ate, - all those
little things to make sure that she was able to live comfortably in her own house.
I really enjoyed the time I was able to spend with her- it means so much
to me that I was able to enjoy every minute that I could with her.
In August 2009 Gussie had a seizure and spent her first night in the hospital
in her entire life- at the age of 93. After a few days in the hospital, she was transferred
to a rehab center, and from there to a nursing home.
For 11 months I went every single day to the nursing home to spend time
with her and to make sure she ate. Everyday when I walked in the door her
face would light up and she would say "There's my girl!".
She told me almost every week that she
She told me almost every week that she
was "ready to go home to her God, anytime he wanted to call her".
She was just waiting on her body to give out. She wasn't really sick in any way,
she was just tired. Tired of living and ready to go home.
Here is my layout of the last Christmas that we shared in 2009.
Here is my layout of the last Christmas that we shared in 2009.
Of course, being the contrary person that she was, she waited until she knew
I would be out of town for 2 days to die. She had already told me she
didn't want me there when she passed away.
She wanted to go quietly, alone, in the arms of God.
I really didn't want to go to retreat.
Everyone told me to go- I was only an hour away after all.
I stopped on the way out of town to see her and to tell her I loved her.
Two mornings later I got the call- she had passed away peacefully in her sleep.
Exactly like she wanted.
Of course, there was the funeral to get through, and then the estate to settle.
It took us almost a year to sell her house. In that year, we all took little
things from her house that meant something to us. I had been in and out of
that house I don't know how many times doing maintenance,
packing things up, getting ready for the sale, etc.
On the last day before the sale, as I stood in her kitchen one last time
to let those memories sink in, I opened a drawer
I had opened a hundred times. I moved a few papers and found
something that made my heart stop.
In the bottom of that drawer was a pile of recipes, collected over
countless years, written in Gussie's own hand.
She wrote recipes on scraps of paper, the backs of envelopes,
the back of a water bill, little tiny note pads- she was a child of
the Great Depression, she wasted nothing!
Now, for all of you who say your handwriting is ugly, messy, or bad,
take a look at this,,,
Do you see this chicken scratch??? And she wrote this before the arthritis made her
hands curl up, and old age made her hands shake. This was her GOOD penmanship!
I defy any of you to tell me that your handwriting is worse than what you see
right here. Gussie's writing was barely legible most of the time.
But let me tell you something;
I sat on the floor of my grandmother's kitchen
I sat on the floor of my grandmother's kitchen
and cried, big sobbing tears like a little girl, over these scraps of paper
covered in that horrible, ugly, handwriting.
These pieces of paper are some of my most precious possessions.
They are priceless beyond compare.
I can look through these papers and see my Gussie's life in that writing.
I can tell the ones she wrote earlier in life. I can tell which ones
she wrote after she started shaking. I can tell which ones she wrote
after she stopped cooking- they have missing ingredients!
So here's the deal...
You need to put your handwriting down on paper because
sometime, somewhere, there will be someone who will be
grateful that you did.
You need to put your handwriting down on paper because
computer journaling does not portray you. That printed font can never
portray your life like pen and ink.
You need to put your handwriting down on paper because
one day you will be gone and the love ones that you leave behind
will be looking for personal ways to connect with you.
But most importantly, you need to put your handwriting down on paper because
that little piece of you that is left behind will mean the world
to someone- and let me tell you that they will not give one damn that your
handwriting is not perfect.
Just write it down.
I couldn't agree with you more! I used to be a Creative Memories Consultant. When I taught scrapbooking classes, I emphasized the importance of writing down the story in their own handwriting.
ReplyDeleteEven just the facts -names, dates, where or at least a few minimal facts-it all would be treasured by their loved ones. We had to clean out my parents house a few years back and I found notes & lists that my parents had written (they were both Depression era kids & didn't throw much away!). I saved some of them. Thanks for a beautiful story!