Why do I remember what we did on a particular day so vividly?
I really do not remember at all but this has a history behind it.
When I was about 13-14-15 years old my mother's sister, my aunt gave me a leather bound calendar for that particular year. Since I studied French in middle school I still remember enough to start writing a daily diary in French.
When I finished the year I continued writing in that same book with a different colored pen and this went on for a few years.
Anyway, since that time I have been keeping diaries for almost every year. Maybe I skipped a few at the beginning of my being in this country.
But now I have volumes and volumes of diaries in every possible drawer in this house. This is not a collection of sentimental feelings. These are a collection of daily events of what I did, where I was, who did I meet.
It might be boring to others but it is interesting reading for me.
On trips, vacations I keep a separate book because I write with a little more detail than usual.
I figured that in later years somebody might be interested to read where and how I spent my times. If nobody cares that is fine too.
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