My house is coming down with notebooks. Some half filled, some bursting…pages slotted in, tea stained and set in shelves all over our house.
But I love them.
In them my thoughts, prayers and frustrations. A part of me, a snapshot of a moment, of what I thought and felt.
In writing this blog I have let the notebooks slip, and that is fine in one way, but in others, in the hidden words, the intimate messages written to a child, to a husband…, the words still need to be said, to be written.
And so, while many times throughout the year, I don’t write in the notebooks, the letters or notes I should, on Valentine’s day Johnny and I write each other a letter. Words which will often go unsaid – words that, in the busyness of life must, must be said. I get the chance to put right some wrongs, to place value on the things that are taken for granted in the everyday.
To say I love you.
To say I know that love takes sacrifice.
To say I know that in spite of all our weaknesses that this love, love that is truth, is the one worth pursuing.
we write letters throughout the year, in a little diary of us, it's so very special to take a look to our ancien letters!
Yes, there is definitely something about writing and receiving a letter that can't be matched!