My beloved grandmother kept a journal for her entire life, beginning when she was in college. I am lucky to be the custodian of her journals and other writing. She wrote daily. One of her college journals, labeled "English Language 111," begins with this brilliant and topical little essay:
The worst feeling I have ever known is the guilty awareness of things undone. When I realize that another day has disappeared into forever-goneness, with all those plans so faithfully made at the beginning of the day having departed just after they were born, I wonder why mortals were ever given the faculty to think. My eyes will not stay open and it takes all the will-power I have to pull a thought from the blank that my mind has become. The more my whirling brain strives to solve the problem of dividing one vacant hour in the morning so that it will stretch over the preparations for three consecutive classes, the more I comprehend that all this worry is merely a foolish waste of time and I may as well go to bed.
This day is headed into forever-goneness, and comes another tomorrow. With that, gentle reader, I may as well go to bed.


  1. How lovely is "forever goneness?"

    A fabulous phrase to capture the enormity of that feeling of never ever being able to accomplish all that you had hoped to accomplish. And time keeps ticking.


  2. yes. although, sigh, i've been thinking about my gram being forever-gone since i posted this. i guess that's a whole-nother subject to write about. xo to you.

  3. Wow - your grandmother was super-articulate! I wish I could write like that!

  4. OK, now I am up to speed.

    I must learn to lurk before I leap.

    I, also, shiver, am the custodian to my grandmother's journals.

    She was a poet and contributed to the newspaper in her town of Bogota, Colombia.

    I have everything she wrote.

    Her words are so real, and her thoughts so deep, and I have to stop now, because I am still in love with her.

    Now, I know you better.

  5. P.S. And this essay here?

    Beyond words, only able to tell you what I mean by you closing your eyes and feeling what I'm trying to place into this little white box here.

    The forever goneness of time...

  6. so much love to you, Alexandra. big love.

  7. "all this worry is merely a foolish waste of time and I may as well go to bed."
    aint it the truth.


Thank you for sharing your thoughts!