Sunday 1st January
How many times, how many years have I gone through the rigmarole of making New Years Resolutions, even writing them down in neat little copperplate letters in my diary. And how many times have I given in; the answer, unsurprisingly, is almost the same. I did write my book “Catherines Story” but that was hardly a serious New Year’s Resolution, more an afterthought – it had been on my mind for years really, but in a funny sort of way it seemed almost disloyal while Edward was alive to be writing of such a passionate phase of my life, when my loyalties and in fact my whole idea of myself were challenged to the full. The book had been an idea which was germinating for maybe a few years before I put pen to paper at all; probably when I first knew that Edward wouldn’t be around forever. I had always written and have started two books before this, both incidentally started on January the first, one when I was thirteen, and a more serious attempt when I was in my late twenties. The latter was, of course, autobiographical, but told in the third person and about a girl called Amanda, who like me had a sad and lonely little upbringing, but it was far too soon after the events I wanted to delve into, and it petered out quite soon, I haven’t re-read it.
So, to this year’s resolutions; and the first is maybe a bit of a surprise. I am going to carry on with the blogs, though heaven knows who the 15 or so people who read it each day are, but I may write slightly shorter pieces – the trouble is, once I get started it is quite difficult to know when to stop. The second is as I said yesterday, to see my reluctant parents a bit more often. I call them reluctant because neither of them really made enough effort to be a real parent to me. My father could and should have made more of an effort to get past Grandma’s obstructions, maybe it suited him to let go of me in this careless manner; and my mother who though she has always been around had never really been here at all, except just once or twice when the crisis was breaking between Grandma and I, only then and sporadically did she even begin to get involved in my life. But now it is time to forgive them both, because for better or worse, they are all I have. The third is to start a new book, and I already have a title of sorts. No, I will keep that to myself for a bit if you don’t mind. So, three resolutions; and not so hard to keep, I think. In any case I am resolved to maintain them this time, and I think I will.