Writers aren't exactly people, they're a lot of people trying to be one person. F.Scott Fitzgerald

Monday, February 6, 2012


A few months ago I was staying with my best friends while I searched for a new place to live.Mark and I were sitting in the living room and I began to tell him some stories of my childhood and stories of my family and ancestors. We were laughing when it hit me and I realized that there was no one left alive who knew me growing up, no one who knew me from birth through my teen years. These wonderful,sad,amusing,heartbreaking, amazing stories would be lost after I died(hopefully many years from now).
A cold fist closed around my heart,a painful ache coiled in my belly, a painful lump stuck in my throat as the reality sucker punched me in my belly taking my breath away.I don't think I have ever felt so alone as I did in that moment. That was the first time that it really hit me that I am essentially an orphan,the only person left alive who knows my own story and remembers all of the stories my mother,grandparents, and my great Aunt Jessie told me about the life and times of the Hearne and Caldwell family. Tears flowed as a myriad of emotions overwhelmed me
Mark,bless his wonderful kind heart, waited until most of the storm passed before he spoke.
I listened as his gentle voice offered words of compassion,understanding and a gentle kick in the butt. "You are a writer and you need to write these stories down before they are lost forever.It just takes doing it!It's up to you to pass them on."
Well it is now February 2012 and has been almost six months since that day and I am settled into a wonderful apartment in a new senior complex. Life is better and I am healthier in body mind and soul.
This morning I cleaned my apartment,took care of paying bills and sat down to catch up on my e-mails. A very disturbing dream I had about a week ago,pushed it's way back into my consciousness and I realized it was past time to begin my autobiography. I want my children and my grandchildren to know who I came from and what made me who I was and who I am today. I want them to know who my side of the family were and laugh at the funny stories,cry at the sad and be amazed as I was when I heard them the first time. I don't want those stories lost and I am the last so it is up to me to tell them and ensure they and my ancestors are not forgotten. So I will gird my loins(as it were) and write. Hopefully, they and all that come after them will enjoy the stories for many years and pass them on through the years even after I am gone. No one ever truly dies as long as they are remembered by someone.