Is journalling my attempt to create ripples?

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. Maya Angelou

I mentioned a while ago (Especially For You, 19th Feb) about the Christmas diary and my first attempts to become a diarist. Apparently journalling is not necessarily a daily pursuit. My daily entries never managed to reach February, despite several school boy attempts.

I never quite lost my desire, although it took 40 years to rekindle and become an everyday part of my life. Perhaps my incentive to share became stronger with my

three children and a realisation that I now have a maximum of 32 years to live, give or take. I’ve agreed a pact with my youngest that I will try and hang on until I’m 92. He’ll be 50, old enough to look after himself.

We die three times

David Eagleman (neuroscientist) wrote a wonderful piece called Metamorphosis in a collection of stories about the afterlife. The first death is when the body stops functioning; the second when the body is cremated or buried and the third is in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.