The Notebook

“I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.” – Virgina Woolf

No, I don’t mean The Notebook as in Nicholas Sparks’ Notebook. I mean my notebook.

The red spiral bound notebook I came across tonight. I am cleaning my home office. I emptied out a laundry basket that had collected random junk of mine. Most of it is related to my daughter, to my time in the maternity home.

The first page is dated 8/10/86 which would make it 3 months after my daughter was born and surrendered. Its heart wrenching for me to read. I flipped through a few pages. I smiled. I laughed. There is the page that has a list of names I scribbled as possible names for her. There is a page that has the list of names of all the other inmates at the "home" with me. There are letters written but never mailed. There are doodles.

A twenty one year old notebook.

Flipping further into the year there are scribbles that I apparently wrote while on a phone call with my daughters father. Its obvious I was in Chicago, my roommate was present in the room and knew who I was talking to.

[section deleted]

Another section has an angry letter to my mother, telling her to stay out of my business and to never speak to me about my daughters father again…

And still farther back there is a letter to him telling him I wanted to see him again but we could not tell anyone because others wouldnt approve.

One of the most deeply healing things that has occurred for me in the years since reunion is uncovering the truth. I had spent so many years hating him. It ate me up inside.

Now I know, I see again, it ate him up too.

I suspect many good blog postings will come from this notebook. That is, if I can muster the strength to read the age old words of my 19 year old self.

5 Thoughts.

  1. Every once in awhile I come across something from high school or college, and the memories it dredges up, good or bad, are jolting. I can’t imagine how emotional it must be for you to read this notebook – just as I can’t imagine how you were able to revisit the home in Chicago.
    You are one strong woman, Suz. (((hug)))

  2. Suz: That is a heartbreak. The 19 yr. old girl with all those words and pain is what makes you the strong woman you are today. Some would say, Why go thru that again and re-read it all but even if you were to throw the notebook away. You are the notebook, and you are dealing with it not healing.
    If we could only erase the deep felt emotion as if it never happened. It is the circle, There are no pink clouds and while we see that, we prepare the path to always survive.
    There are those that could never have come this far. You may have been the chosen because you are the survivalist.
    You have offered much to a lot of people who need to hear you.

  3. I wish I’d kept a journal when I was pregnant. I spent the entire five months I was in “excile” writing letters to my friends, assuring them I was OK, not to worry about me. As hard as it is to read in retrospect, your words, your emotions from that time are precious.

  4. I so long for the day my childs birth mother will come forward for us to compare stories. I did not go out intothis world and just see the beautiful children and make their mother fail so that I could have them.
    What is your opinion if someone wouldn’t of been there to give your daughter ‘life’ you know the one where she leared values and ways to live? I don’t want to feel guilty of adopting when I have done so much for these children. I did not supply their mother with drugs, or tell her to abuse he children, nor did I tell her to have 6 -12 children.

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