There is a columnist in the L.A. Times who has a writing style like I think I write. I don't know if I could do that on demand--that's the other thing, having to. I had tried that once. Anyway, she puts down her personal experience, opinion, feelings. I wrote to her once in response to one article, and she said I made her cry. She's a widow with 2 kids; I had told her about Alice.

I've always wanted to write about the people in the family so the coming generations could understand how we got the way we did and feel they're O.K. to be who they are. But part of me says that's just making excuses. Another part says, "So, who made you the expert?" That's a line I usually throw at myself after I write things for myself to preserve the idea, but not having somebody I'm telling it to. Sounds too much like bragging if it's a "good" idea, or whining if it's negative. It's only my own perspective and may not even be close to right, so why embarrass everybody?

I’ve often wanted to just print my saved up writings and put them into a binder or box and be done with it. I've mourned ones I've lost. Some I come across I can hardly recognize. Papers from college I can't figure out how I ever understood the stuff, and was that me? Enough. See what goes on in my head? But for some special people I can let go and type my little heart out.