I once did a better job of measuring out my life, not in coffee spoons or marks on the cave walls. For several years, I made a point to give forgettable events their own few words of remembrance on a simple 3×4 calendar grid in my word processor.
I’d forgotten this until I was cleaning out the attic of my hard drive this week, viewing files as images. This green font was so familiar for the 3-4 years during which I was faithful to record the coming and going of family, the occasional meaningful essay or radio piece, the sorrows and joys and accomplishments on the small Goose Creek scale of things.
The last such “table of life” I found was from 2006. This week, I started a new one for this year, but can’t fill in many details of the first eight months, and know there are things I wish I had made note of. I’ll do better to mark my wanderings, to better know how I got to the present by following the bread crumbs from the past.
If you’re not doing something like this, think about it. It might someday be a precious archive of your life that will help your children’s children follow their own trail back the way they’ve come.