So I was thinking about how little I know about my Mother’s life, and how there really isn’t anyone around who can clue me in. I have lots of unanswered questions as I approach 40 (later this year) and wish I new more about her since she clearly and profoundly shaped my life. I spoke to my Uncle (My Mother’s Brother), not too long ago to see if he could provide some insight, however the failed memory of time coupled with their unique living conditions created more questions than answers.
My father’s memory is also warn by age and circumstance. I have accepted the notion that I will never really know my Mother. That her life will remain, forever, a mystery to me. It’s a sad prospect to come to terms with, but a reality I must face. Unfortunately the knowledge I seek, lay like the treasure on a sunken ship at the bottom of the Sea.
It is because of this, that I write this blog. One never knows when their time is up and I would hate for Emma to not know something about her Mom and Dad because we falsely assumed there would always be time to tell her later.
With that said I have decided to incorporate aspects of my own childhood into my posts so that she can better understand her Father’s background in order to gain a deeper understanding of her own origin. I am sure I will tell her these stories in person, but children are not always ready to listen. One day, when she is ready, my words will be waiting to tell their tale.
