By Louise R. Shaw

I watched as she vigorously scrawled her emotions on paper.

It wasn't clear who'd made her angry, but it was clear by the frowny faces she was drawing, one after another, on page after page, that she had been crossed.

It might have been me who made her angry now that I think about it.

Maybe I said we would wait until after lunch to have ice cream rather than starting with dessert at breakfast.

That kind of thing is upsetting to a six-year-old who is accustomed to having her "Nana" give her whatever she wants whenever she wants it.

But the parents were out of town. It fell to the grandparents to be responsible adults and lay down the markers related to sugar intake.

So I watched, as one frowny face followed another, each with progressively more dramatic flourishes.

"Do you like to express your emotions on paper?" I asked her, sure in advance that I knew the answer.

I didn't.

"No," she said. "I'd rather express them with my actions."

I could only assume her emotion actions were unacceptable to her parents, who then taught her a different way to express them, which hurt only the paper and perhaps the pencil she was working so aggressively.

It was probably a good thing for me, that morning, that only the paper and pencil got the abuse.

Sometime later her sister, three years older, was likewise writing furiously on a paper - both sides - after which she put it in an envelope with "Top Secret: For Mom's Eyes Only. Do Not Open This Letter." 

I think, perhaps, I had done something offensive in her view as well. Not sure what my offense was then, but it would happen at least one more time in the week we spent together.

Alas.

Hard to keep everyone happy all the time. Hard also, to know you've made someone mad.

So here I am. Writing.

Writing furiously - but not furiously ("with great energy and speed" but no "with intense anger." - Google).

I too have discovered over the years that there is relief in expressing emotions on paper.

Writing helps in the processing.

What was it that made me feel so strongly about something? What can I do to better deal with it? What can I learn from what happened and how I'm feeling about it?

And then what's written can either be ripped up and thrown away along with the problem, or set aside while waiting for an answer, or shared with the equivalent of a caring mom for support.

I recommend it, with a caveat: Don't just write when you're angry.

Write whey you're happy. When you're touched. When you're remembering something meaningful.

Because when you write, not only are you remembering, but you're making it possible for someone to remember you.

We threw away the angry-face drawings. They'd served their purpose. No one else needed to know about the temporary temper flare.

Their mom read the tell-all letters and moved on. No need for further action, just someone to understand.

Toss the angry missives. They will have served their purpose without doing any lasting damage.

But keep the emotions that you might want to live again by putting them on paper.

How you felt as you sang that good-night song to your grandchildren. How you felt when you heard that inspiring quote at just the right moment. How you felt when you got the picture from your granddaughter with lots and lots of hearts.

But more than writing, when it comes to those upbeat emotions that might make you want to sing or dance or laugh or smile or give someone a hug - let's just go ahead and act on them.

First published by the Davis Journal of northern Utah in September 2026.