What to write, what to write?

In answer to a query posted by a sweet friend on my last blog, the working title for my NaNoWriMo challenge is: "The Things My Mother Told Me".

All the years I spent growing up in my parents home and through the many years since, I've always known that my mother was a story teller. She often recalled to us her memories of growing up in the post-depression era of the 1930's. Many times she would repeat her tales of the wild and crazy antics of her youth, but with each telling there would be a new little nugget of wisdom or a gem that she had previously left out. Some might call this embellishing. I prefer to think of it as hind sight or a sudden clarity of memory.

When she got started some family members would roll their eyes and say, "Here we go again!" Then would carefully slip off into another room hoping she wouldn't notice they had deserted her yet again. But not me. I loved hearing her stories and the enthusiasm that would light up her eyes as she told them yet again. I think it drove my family crazy when I would stop by for a visit and ask her to, "Tell me about the time .... or what was it like when ..." "Really Kathy, don't get her started!"

I asked my sister once while my mom was struggling through her last months in her heroic battle with cancer, "What will we do? We haven't recorded her stories and they'll be lost forever when she's gone!' Her Seemingly callused reply was, " Don't worry, I've heard them a million times. I'll never be able to get them out of my head!"

The last time I visited my mom before her battle came to its sad conclusion and she was so exhausted she could barely hold up her head let alone stand; the minute I asked her about the old days her eyes lit up, the disease and exhaustion fell away and she talked animatedly late into the night sharing her stories with a captivated audience of one, one last time.