L to R. Sydney Opera House for Jessica because she was born in Sydney. Calligraphy pen and notebook for Luke because I don't think he has picked up a book in years. The next one actually has heaps of 0001101011110 all over it. This is for Sam who is glued to his computer. The Funk journal has an electric guitar for Beth who is self-taught and plays really well. Abby is the lioness in the family (really a big pussy cat) and it was a bonus that this one also had fleur de lis on it as she is a Scout and last but not least, the racing cars for Nicky who's dreams are always bigger and better than anything I've ever imagined.
I bought 6 A4 journals today. I’ve always wanted to leave behind something for my kids to read but couldn’t quite work out how I wanted to do it. When I look back through old diaries I think “they’ll probably read these and throw them out or if they decide they’re worth keeping, end up arguing over who gets them”. So I thought maybe I should write a journal for each of them. It can be personal then and there won’t be any fights over who gets it. I want to fill it up with lots of little things that might get forgotten like the time Abby was telling us about some guy who is a “nefandial” (Neanderthal). Her brother Sam laughed and said, “You’re a nefandial”. It was one of those ‘had to be there’ moments but it still brings a shy, embarrassed grin to her face when mentioned. It’s those little moments that are special but so easily forgotten as we age and life gets in the way. I want Sam to remember how proud I was the year he made a wooden aeroplane and gave it to Nicky for Christmas. I want Beth and Jessica to know how much I enjoy listening to them sing and play guitar. I want Abby, Beth and Jessica to know how much I love watching them act on the stage. I want Abby to know how much I love being a Scout leader and how much fun I had sharing the camps and bush walks with her. I want Nicky to know I really do love his stories and I’ve kept every one of them. I want them to know that even though they are nearly adults, I still go into their rooms some nights and watch them sleep for a few moments. I stand there, consumed by love and totally in awe of how precious they are. I want them to know all the little things that they are too busy to hear right now. But most of all, when I’m no longer here, I want them to be able to read these journals and hear my voice calling to them from wherever I may be and know that they always have and always will be, very special and very, very loved.
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