I keep a detailed moleskine which documents my life. I seem unable to journal like a regular person and so it has become a hodge-podge of writing, drawings and poetry. Frida often makes cameos.
This is my entry describing my recently deceased Papa. I miss him and was unable to attend the funeral, so I did some cathartic moleskinning. The next page was a stress induced drawing because I was anxious about being the Girl's Camp director in my ward. I often like to doodle out my anxiety.
This entry documents the family road trip saga to Utah in which we all got the stomach flu. I believe my personal vomit count was up to 15 before the trip was over. Before the nasty flu incident, the trip was lovely-- we had a condo in Park City, arrived a Mount Rushmore right as they turned off the lights (they were on when we parked but by the time we walked up there it was hardly visible), and it was also the last time I got to see my Papa. I got to see him on his last lucid day and say goodbye, which was amazingly lucky, but very sad. I am just grateful that he did not have to suffer long.
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