I just realized. I've had my diary for two years today. My first entry dealt with the hospital visits that were going on at that time and the smoking that takes place there, as well as the beautiful dining area but the lack of beds. Both still occur. Nothing has changed there.

But I have changed. My writing has become better. I have changed. I've grown. I've matured.

I remember the time that I started this diary. The month before, the thought that it was minor, followed by the next day phone call that it was not. The look on his face when he hung up the phone and the way our world changed. The protecting he tried to do as he kept me from the room thinking it would upset me and the person in the room. Not realizing that I wanted to go in and that the person there didn't mind. The visits - hospital and home. The classes missed, the secrets.

I remember the realization that it wouldn't get better. The palative care talk. The unsureness if he understood, knowing that he did. Who couldn't? The covering up by writing of inconcequental things. I sound untouched in those writings. I sound annoying as well. More than I do now. Time was taken because life became to personal.

I remember the smiles. The first ever illegal canada day scooter races. The mixup of dates for special occasions. The need for both of these, even if it wasn't realized at that time.

I remember the last week. Writing on a laptop, sitting on an old couch, surrounded by people I didn't know. Passing in papers via e-mail, explaining where I was. The smells, the sounds, the sadness. Being alone in the procession. Needing to be alone and to be with others.

I remember that was my life for only two months. It has impacted more than anything. There is no mention of it in my diary however. Looking at entries of that time, until you get to a certain point, you'd never know. Regular readers who knew me didn't. Classmates didn't. Secrets are easy to keep in a diary.

This diary has helped me in so many ways. At that time, when it was started, it was an excape from life. It still is. I have somewhere to go to rant and rave about things where noone can roll their eyes at me and say that 'she's on her soap box again'. Where I can write what I mean, even if I delete it because it cuts to deep, it is a place to say it.

I've also found people through this forum that I enjoy hearing from. So many that are now gone. So many that I enjoy reading about their day. I know they have things happening - lives happening - that are not documented. That happen and cannot be written. Or that they feel they should edit. Which is fine. I do that as well. I think it makes us more faceted.

We are all iceburgs.

I think I've started to think of a new design.........

Happy two years. Here's to more.

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