My 2023 Yearbook

Last year I published all of my blogs in a series of five books.  Each one contained my stories from a single year, except the first one. I had one printed for each of the kids and me.  I began writing in November of 2017, so I included my November and December posts in my 2018 book. Earlier this month I ordered my book for 2023.  It came in the mail a couple of days ago.

This year’s book differs from the prior five because both January 1 and December 31, 2023, fell on a Sunday.  Sunday is one of my posting days, so it’s a clean year.  I don’t know when that will happen again.

When I publish, I give the publishing company permission to access my WordPress account.  Once they open it, I can select individual stories or a range of dates to make the book.  Last June I published a single book for my grandson, Brady, as he graduated from high school.  I selected stories that I’d written about him and put them in a book.  It was just for him. I’ll do the same for Eva and, hopefully, Young Jackson James when they graduate.  If I reach that goal, I’ll have written over 2,100 stories and I’ll have twenty-one yearbooks.  I’ve already written more than a quarter in my six books.

Earlier this month I selected January 1, 2023, through December 31 for this year’s yearbook. I chose photos for the front and back, wrote a short dedication, and added a few words to be printed on the book’s spine.   Once I made my selections, the publisher compiled a book which I approve.  If changes need to be made, we can make them.  Pretty simple.

When I received notification that this year’s book was ready for review, I discovered that they had gone back to October 1, 2022, and included every blog I’d written since then. That blog was called “No Words”.  It contained fifty-three pictures of Ruth.  She died on Tuesday night, September 27.  I posted the wordless story the following Sunday, October 1.

I hadn’t planned to post anything at all that Sunday.  Her loss was too raw, and I just couldn’t do it. I had my blog for September 28th ready, so I pushed the post button after I called the three kids about her accident. It was the only part of that night that was normal.

David, Michael and I spent the better part of Wednesday night drinking a bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon, Ruth’s favorite.  Mike had arrived from California around midnight, and we talked all night.  When I told them I wasn’t going to write for a while, they told me I had to.  I had to keep going and writing was a part of that.  I agreed to post a wordless story with a few pictures, and they agreed to help me find them.  While I planned on posting a half dozen, I went with fifty-three.  It’s one of my most read blogs.

So, this year, as the publishing company assembled this year’s stories, they went back to that October 1, 2022, post.  That’s not what I requested, but that’s what they gathered.  I double checked my request to make sure I hadn’t made some Freudian error.  I hadn’t.  It’s just one more thing I can’t explain.

I truly believe that Ruth reaches out to the kids and me from time to time.  This is just another.  Maybe this time she wanted to be sure that we hadn’t forgotten her.  We haven’t.  I think of her every day, but I made the correction to this year’s book before I approved it for printing.  The stories from October 1 to December 31, 2022, are in the 2022 book.  That’s where they belong.

Each of the books is a recording of my thoughts as they come to me.  They’re not all happy, but I record them in the order that they reappear.  I use the word reappear as I’ve already lived the story, I’m just writing it down.

The books have become a timeline for me.  If I ever wonder what I thought when, I pick up a book and read it.  Life is full of joy and sorrow.  If I write about it all, as I plan to continue to do, my descendants will learn of Ruth and me.  The stories will become a part of our legacy. I think Ruth would approve.