A Journal for My Mom

I went to the store today and bought a journal. Not a journal for me, a journal for my mother. Well, it's sort of a journal for me.

It's a place where my mother can write down the story of her life, using prompts from the book. I'm a little nervous to ask her to fill out the book. I'm nervous that if I ask her to use the journal, to write down the story of her life, it's equivalent to giving up. To admitting that she won't be around to continue telling her story.

But I'm going to give it to her anyway. And I have good reason. First, I'd like her to be around to fill out a "Conversations with my Grandma" book one day. But if she's not, I really want to have this information written down, kept safe, for my children to read. My mom's mom died of heart failure at age 53. I never knew her, and there was nothing other than my mom's stories of her to paint the picture of Grandma in my heart. I want to make sure there's something for myself - and my future children - to immortalize her with.

But perhaps it's good. I'm a very symmetrical person, so when I purchased one for my mother, I purchased one for my father, too. And my husband's parents. So we will have a complete set of stories from our parents, just in case. And hopefully, we can add to these journals several times over the next thirty years.

But if not - I have a snapshot of my mother. Something to hug at night and keep close to my heart. Something to keep her alive.

Even if I can't.