And so, back to Minneapolis

[sartorias]

Yesterday afternoon my 98-year-old great-aunt stood in the old farmhouse where she'd been a child, her careful feet on the break between the newer part of the house and the old. Gazing down at the scrubbed floorboards covered with a modern rug, she said, "My father lay right there in his casket. I was five years old, and I had no idea what was

Comments

[asakiyume]

Oh wow. What an amazing treasure. If it has even some of the sorts of details *you* include in this, your own thoughts on past and present and the house and the memories, it will be wonderful.

So many indomitable women, pushing forward even when they were being told no and held back and down.

[sartorias]

I might include a passage or two, if there is any interest. It's detailed, vivid, and reflective. A real treasure.

[asakiyume]

I will *love* it if you do.

[sartorias]

Thanks!

[mrissa]

I am so glad. I had an Auntie Mim, too, and I wish she'd written her autobiography.

[sartorias]

I hope you have some of her stories and things to treasure!

[mrissa]

Auntie Mim just flatly refused to argue with people about little things (and she considered most things little things). Just never would argue. If you would question on a small point ("Are you sure you have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, Miriam? I thought it was Thursday"), she would look it up if it was something that could be looked up, but otherwise she would cheerfully say, "Oh, I don't know, maybe I made that up."

So now we say it too. All the time. Rather than letting silly details that can't be checked devolve into a fight. "Oh, I don't know, maybe I made that up." And we think of Auntie Mim.

See you in a few hours!

[sartorias]

She sounds like a delight!

Looking forward to it! (Soon as daughter wakens, we will hit the road; she was up most of the night transferring footage from camera to computer.)

[stephanieburgis]

Oh, wow. What a wonderful record for your family to have!

[sartorias]

Thanks!

[negothick]

Those who want to return to the "good old days" always assume they will be the rich folks in the big house on the hill. This applies whether those "old days" are the Middle Ages or the late nineteenth century or 1950s (presumably the time when America was great for the first time).

[sartorias]

That's exactly what she said.

[arielstarshadow]

Oh, that's wonderful! And maybe she can try Dragon, which would let her simply talk her thoughts out loud and let them be transcribed onto the page for her.

[sartorias]

She doesn't have a computer, or access to one, alas. And at ninety-eight, she's not ready for one.