Another notebook is nearly full. My goal is to fill a notebook a month. Yes, there are notebooks that adorn my shelves and fill baskets everywhere. What am I to do? I have a lot to say.

Mixed feelings stir inside me when the ending of a notebook is near. Melancholy. A sadness that the journey with this notebook is over, yet excitement to begin with a new one. I grieve for a while as the old notebook is set aside and eventually stored in a basket or on a shelf.

It must be hard for the notebook to understand.

Seriously? You have no idea.

Excuse me? I reply to the voice.

You carry me around with you everywhere for a solid month or more.  I give you my pages and they accept everything your pen scribbles into me. I never whine or complain. So patient, I am. Waiting and waiting for your words.  Oh so grateful when your hand finally reaches for my spine in the mornings. Everything I give — you complete me and then. . . I’m set aside. . . like a one night stand.

Oh, Dear Notebook of Mine,

That is not how it is.  I treasure you! My heart fills with anguish the closer I get to the last of your pages, knowing that soon – I have to let you go – and begin again.

It doesn’t feel that way to me.  I see all those other notebooks tucked away in baskets and stacked on your shelves.  Forgotten – for years.  In a day or two, that will be me.

Oh, Dear Notebook of Mine,

You are correct.  I’m so sorry.  But – I do visit you from time to time, rereading your pages, reliving the joys we spent together.

That’s not enough.  I am meaningless sitting in a basket.  I want to be used.

But, that is not true, Dear Notebook. It could not be further from the truth.  You contain pieces of me that no human in this world has.  You hold my history – the stories of me.  I give you ALL of me.

Well. . . .

You are my safest place, Dear Notebook.  I trust you to hold these tender stories and keep them safe.  Forever, if need be.  You have such a responsibility – all the gems I’ve given you – a treasure box you are.  And just like treasures that are sometimes buried or lost at sea for millions of years, so must you.

Millions of years? I don’t have that much time.

But, you must.  It is an honor to be a notebook and house history.  One day, I will be gone, but you will still be here, carrying all that I was, you help me to live on – for my children and grandchildren. You are that carrier, the link, the sweet nectar of my humanness.  Tending to these stories is a privilege bestowed to you.

I’m sorry . . . I guess I didn’t realize.

It’s quite alright, Dear Notebook, you are young and want to be the center of attention for a little while longer.  I understand.  Once you are with the other notebooks, you will become wise.  You will learn of your importance.

Okay. I will try to understand.  And, be more patient.  I will.  I promise.

You, Dear Notebook, are the Keeper of the Flame for this short period of my life – January 22nd to March 5th of 2017.  Only YOU alone holds this part of me.  You need to guard it with your life.

Yes, I will.  I am honored to be this protector of your history.  But. . . when will you come back and visit me? I don’t know any of those other notebooks, even.

I may – I may not. Even so – be willing to live on.  The other notebooks are your friends.

Yes, yes. . . I must. . . I will.  Thank you.  Thank you so much for giving me your heart – your soul. For trusting me.  I understand now.  Good bye, dear friend. . . until we meet again.

Good bye, dear friend as well.  And, thank you, for waiting for me each day and greeting me with your open arms.

I love you.

And, I love you.

Well geez.

Here I sit. . . in tears. . . saying good by to a notebook.  Did I just say, “I love you?”.  . to my notebook?

Good heavens.  What has become of me.

I am grateful I am home alone today.

Shari 🙂

Mysteriously, this song came on my Pandora station as I finished this post:

I love it when my angels do that. 🙂

I’m participating in twowritingteachers March Challenge of posting a blog post every day for the month of March.  To check out other writers, visit here.