Wait Until I am Dead…

These are my stories. I am keenly aware that these stories belong to others too; that other characters may see the events and conversations in these writings in a far different context than I do. Memories of these events may have dulled or sharpened over time. To those people I offend, anger, or depress, write your own book – this one is mine.

My story will always start with the one who would be most offended by the stories in these pages. I told my Grandmother over a cup of tea and chocolate candies that I was thinking of writing a book to tell my stories. When I told my Grandmother I was considering writing a book she immediately clutched her necklace, which was not pearls but a monogrammed gold disc. That monogram has not changed through two marriages – JWL – her signature. Now the women in my family wear our own, constant reminders and celebrations of the family from which we came and the ideals that Grandmother expects us each to uphold. What came out of her mouth next made me laugh, “please just wait until I am dead. I don’t think I could take the embarrassment.”

Regardless, I am taking her comment as permission. As the first grandchild, I interpret every comment as permission to do whatever I want. I adore Grandmother. She is my hero. She is royalty in her tiny town and she owns that crown.

I can only hope that she forgives me, for so many things.