My grandpa journals every day. I've known this fact for years now but I'd never read any of his entries until the other day. We celebrated his 78th birthday. All of us sat around, watched him blow out candles in the dark because Grandma can't stand the light, and watched as he opened his presents. My favorite is the gift of time together, so I gave him a Bob Evans gift card to have dinner with Grandma. He also unwrapped pies, food certificates, and a new journal that I picked out. I didn't expect that I'd be given the biggest gift that day.

After cake was had and presents were opened, Grandpa brought a stack of journals in that he had completed over the past 10 years. He started to read and nearly every entry had sports scores, weather conditions, who he completed a frame job for, and of course, family events. We shouted out dates to read: "November 2nd!" - Faith's birthday, "February 20th!" - Nathanael's, and so on. I asked for July 7, 1999.

Grandpa recorded things that I haven't remembered. Being admitted a few days after the first chemo for blood issues and the day my hair started "rapidly falling out." The following day said "Becki's hair is 95% gone." Days I was tired. Days I wasn't. Days my brother was building a treehouse while I was asleep in the living room on the couch. The life I missed while I was on the inside.

Grandma didn't want to hear about the day of her stroke. She largely pretends it never happened but the journals are a perfect record of what he thought was important, a record of how he interpreted what was happening in our family. There is no worldy or local news. Each entry only a few sentences. Funerals, births, anniversaries, graduations. Love. He didn't miss anything.

I know one day they'll stop. Maybe that day he simply won't be able to write in them any longer or maybe he'll write until God authors his final entry. My New Year's Resolution is to journal. Not about me and my feelings, but about my life. Grandpa rarely talks about how he felt - he stated the facts, as he saw them. So below is my first entry - no style, just the facts. But the closing line still belongs to me.

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Cold, 30s with the Bucks playing Texas. Today was Rod's* last day of radiation. We celebrated with a hug and sharing photo albums - amazing work. Marlo and I are taking him to lunch in a couple weeks. John* reminds me that God's plans for us are more than we could possibly dream of and backs his statement with a story about his son. I told him I was still caring for the flower he gave me at home. Infusion was busy. Debbie* came in and her hair hasn't fallen out yet. It'll probably start later this week. She is beautiful and her attitude more so. I didn't see Mike* today and wonder if he came in when I was away from my desk. I've been wondering about the lady that wears a silver pin on her coat who is brought by her friend. I haven't seen her in weeks.

*Names have been and always will be changed.

Please know I love you and I miss you anyway
I'm coming to grips with what you deal with everyday
You're always on my mind.
I can't seem to find my own sense of disregard
Lord knows I'm hurting for you
I feel so benign not having control of this

-Axium/David Cook, "AC," in honor of his brother battling brain cancer