I am alone writing a series of stories and letters titled, "When I was Your Age", a memoir that will be a finished product by December. When I am not reading or blogging, or at the doctor, or volunteering, I'm polishing that book of mine.
There is so much we want to tell our children and grandchildren before we die: stories of how life was back in our days, snippets of historical significance, important events that our grandchildren will read in history books.
Our memories become the legacy we leave to our children. I may not live to see the birth of all my grandchildren. Many people write books of recipes, with stories to go with each dish. These tidbits add so much meaning to those future days when dishes are shared and someone will talk about Nonna and her famous spaghetti sauce.
My book took two years to complete. Unlike other projects, I had a difficult time being objective. I'm too close to the events, too touched by the emotions. I am still trying to do a good editing job before I shop around for an agent.
Should I pass tomorrow, my stories and letters will continue to speak louder than any piece of jewelry or endowmnet I leave behind.