The last two days I have been reading my journals from college. It's made for some pretty interesting reading. There are activities in there I had forgotten and people I have happy, faded memories about. I wish I had photos of all those people, places and activities, but I don't. I had a camera in college - a pretty nice one - but it never occurred to me to bring it with me to document my life as I do today. Back in those days, film was expensive to process so photos were reserved for special occasions.
Still, all through the pages of my journal are tickets to dances, receipts from special things and notes written to me by special people. If something was really special, I glued it to it's own page, but most of the time things were just paper-clipped or stapled to the top of a page I had written on.
I had forgotten how much therapy my journal was as I navigated roommates who weren't always pleasant, classes that weren't easy and men who were hard to understand. I did okay with one and three, but could have spent more time on two - my classes. It's amazing how many Saturdays found me up in the mountains of Utah or off visiting my aunt in Ogden. Did I actually STUDY? Probably not - my grades pretty much tell the rest of that story.
I am grateful, though, that I was such a dedicated writer for those college years. It's fun to read about all the crazy things I did. It's also fun to read about the journey I took when I met my husband. Nearly an entire journal includes our story of meeting, dating and marrying. That will be so precious to our children someday - as precious as it is to me now.
If you have old journals laying around, get them out and read them occasionally. It's as fun as looking through a scrapbook only your mind has to create the photos to go along with the story.