I asked them all a question. A provocative question for anyone who’d listen, and I got answers in the form of captivating bio-vignettes or mini memoirs. I put a good number of them into a book called TellTale Souls: Keeping Spirits Alive One Story at Time. The question went something like this, “If you could tell just one small story that reveals your mother’s character and would keep her spirit alive, what would it be?”
The journey I began over a decade ago into writing Mother Memoir started this way:
My mother died, but she’s not gone. Her ashes are scattered in my garden. I see her in my flowers and taste her in my fruit, and I laugh and I cry with her and know who I am…and sometimes who I am not. I love to hear and tell stories about her, and I know that my children and grandchildren will discover her soul shimmering between the lines of those savory stories.
My mother was born Margaret Althea Cook. She wasn’t a saint and she wasn’t famous or wealthy. By most standards, she was just your ordinary, garden-variety mother…and isn’t that grand? I think so, but then I think the vibrancy and earthiness of a wild flower is beyond compare—and, yes, she taught me to appreciate those ordinary things in life.
The gathering of the bio-vignettes started after my mother’s death in September of 1995. At that time, I sent a note to close female friends and relatives asking them to send memories or stories about their own loved ones. Below is the letter I sent back then, which precipitated the release that was just the beginning of the remarkable chorus of voices that comprise TellTale Souls.
“Dear_______,
My mother’s death last fall prompted a plethora of remembrances. Through the tears of sorrow, bright rays of sunlight streaked as my sister and I talked of things recalled—great memories we enjoyed and hope to keep alive within our family.
Invariably, when I spoke to friends or relatives at that time, their memories too were jogged. And they’d tell little stories. Sometimes about my mother, but more often than not, their stories were about their mothers.
I found each story interesting. They ran the gamut from hilarious, passionate, bitter-sweet or sad, to amazing. Some were educational, others full of wisdom. These were stories to remember, but I soon forgot most of them.
So I’m hoping to coax these stories out of you now. Tell me a story. A tidbit. A trifle. What unique anecdote do you want remembered about your mother (aunt, godmother, grandmother, sister)?
A vignette—a lesson, superstition, some wisdom, recipes for life (or the stomach), witchcraft, poetry, letters, instructions, ancient feminine echoes, a family ritual, herbs for what ails, maybe something you take for granted that would delight me. It doesn’t need to be profound or lengthy, just an original tale of a page or two. Thank you, and have fun remembering…”
Tune in next time for Five Reasons to Give the Gift of Story. . . .
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