I've been cleaning and cleaning today, mostly sorting, actually. I threw out lots of cards, notes and letters including ones that made me very sad because they were written in the hand of people who've died, Judy, my Aunty Ann, Aunt Roberta and Uncle John and so on. Very sad.
I will keep all the old journals I unearthed. I opened each to be sure it actually was written in and not blank, and found this in one:
My first husband, Peter, told me that if I ever left him, he would follow me to the end of the earth, find me wherever I went, and kill me, slowly and painfully--and I believed him. I had reason to. He'd already followed me and found me when I tried to run away. He'd beaten me, each time worse than the time before. But I kept running.
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I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats
Mary