Over the past few months, I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom. My mom is 88 years old and her whole life she has had the most amazing memory. She would look at a picture and say, “Oh yes, I got that polka-dotted dress at J.L. Hudsons in 1934 for $7.85 and I wore it to three parties.” I mean it was CRAZY what she could remember.
This year she cannot. The memory is gone. The short-term memory left last year and this year the long-term memory is fading away quickly. She has wanted to write her life history for the last several years but just seemed unable to do it.
I had decided I didn’t care. My mom was a homemaker her whole life and if she didn’t really want to write her history, that was OK. I was wrong. I admit that now.