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I missed this post...today I saw the date: Oct 3. Every day means something special to someone, somewhere. This date--October 3, 1958
a strange no-woman's land between one world and the next, a storm coming but not yet arrived
My mother had told us to pack up our suitcases two days before and I left my childhood behind. Left my home behind, my community, my father (whew for that one). Just as you say...except in my case there was a storm behind and a storm coming. Oct 3 was the first day I signed into my new school.
I love what you are doing here. I can't write in longhand anymore except for a few sentences, if that much. It all turns to gibberish because my hand won't behave. It's a loss, for sure. Different parts of the brain engaged with cursive.
Maybe dictating and transcribing would approximate the process?
Hello @agmoore, how nice to see you.
I know what you mean: today my brother was born, at 8:13am, Friday 9 October 1964. Coming up the stairs, turning on the landing outside my mother's room, I heard him arriving. Shocked by the midwife smoking cigarettes in the kitchen as she filled in the paperwork afterwards. I was nine.
It sounds like out of the frying pan and into the fire for you.
I started handwriting earlier this year with Morning Pages. They didn't quite work for me at that time, although I can see they might have a place in the future. Maybe handwrite your few sentences and take it from there?
Wow, now that's a memory.
Maybe yes, a few sentences. Maybe I start tonight...
The pen and paper make a big difference. Gel pens are my my favourites, these have a soft collar where you hold them and they glide over the paper with minimum friction and drag.
I'll see if my husband has one...he has the pens, because he does the checkbook :)
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