I have always admired people who write journals. I am over 60 years old now, and have been fascinated by journals as long as I can remember. It can be any journal, a famous person jotting down their daily activities, or a woman struggling for survival in the west 100 years ago or in China today. I have also always wanted to be the person writing that journal. As a young girl so many of us had diaries, a great Christmas gift for or from a friend. I always started diligently noting what gifts I received or which boy was important to me that year. But come February or so the entires became further apart, first days, then weeks and ultimately months. Christmas again and the same pattern begins. In my teens, I decide if I had a "real journal" I would be more "adult' and commit to entering a few lines daily or at least several times a month. With all good intentions, those pages were never filled either. It was so much more rewarding to read someone else's journal, someone who had an "exciting" life, had something to share. Years passed,my daughter was born, a Babybook started, NOW I had something important to record. Nursery id bracelet, locks of hair, photos, firsts all recorded with the utmost care and accuracy. I was on my way...........but then life happened. My daughter grew, no more "at home Mom", a job, a divorce, several moves. Parent teacher conferences, an appendectomy,dance lessons, weekend exchanges with her Father, 2 weeks in summer she was gone. And still no journal, just a desire. All the stories, the antedotes, the milemarkers left to the perfidies of the mind, or a rarely shared verbal retelling of the original story. I like to believe that those stories are accurately recalled, who knows, but by now we all believe them anyway. I look at my wonderful, beautiful granddaughter and realize she has no concept of me as an adolescent or teen, let alone a young single mother with very little confidence and less money. How did we get from there to here.......using Legacystories and photo archives, I have high hopes of reliving those days and RECORDING them for her and those to follow, because I did have an interesting life and one worth sharing.  beg bbegins  In.. Locks of hair, photos,  for he.