- Grandpa died on July 9, 1973 - I write that with my hand but my brain contradicts it. Maybe I cannot accept death.
- Bob is still talking to me - but I have decided that he was more of an embarrassing element. I don't miss or want him anymore
- Greg remains a mystery
There is one blank page left in this journal. In later journals I tried to end them on December 31 and in the moments before midnight would fill the last page with as many memories of the year as I could. I would write them in bold, bright markers. Then I would usually be sad.
This is the end of my yellow journal. The next few entries are from a notebook that must have been lying around and used when the yellow one was not available.