Legacy
My Mom recently had to do a very difficult thing - she had to clean out her parent’s house. My grandfather is in a nursing home due to his dementia, and my grandmother passed away a few years ago. It is surreal to see someones life reduced to a pile of possessions.
One of the most interesting things she found was a number of journals my grandfather kept. These were those little day planner books which have a few lines allocated for each day reserved for appointments and meetings. My grandfather used them in a slightly different manner - he recorded little details about each day. Since there were only a few lines available he was forced to kept the descriptions succinct - much like a primitive twitter service. No one knew he kept these journals and I read through several of these books with rapt fascination. In the 1987 book I found an account of my broken left arm. In another journal I see that my sister made first honors, while I only made second (she was always a fucking show off). I enjoyed reading my family’s history though my grandfather’s eyes.
But this really makes me think. The closest thing I have to these journals is this blog. I wonder about the day when my grandchildren discover my ancient “MacBook Pro” interweb communication terminal and connect to the antiquated “Google” indexing service and stumble upon my blog. Do I really want them to know that Grandpa used to read websites on his iPhone to pass time while he craps?
