Ashlyn Hendrix

First Entry

Sunday 2/28/21 – First Entry I was ten when I found my great grandmother’s journal, stowed away in an old dusty trunk located upstairs in my childhood home. The tattered cover smelled of must and old perfume, and the pages were dog eared and ink smeared, showing clear signs of her vulnerability. The pages had cataloged the life and journey of a woman I have only known through grainy, discolored photographs. Its fragile binding creaked as I became so engrossed in reading about my tangible heritage. A sense of connection flooded over me as I peered into my lineage in a way that I had never experienced. You see, my family members are all closed books, so communication and deep conversations have only ever lived in my mind. I guess being introspective is more than a choice, it is a genetic trait for my family.