I think all parents dream that their children will inherit certain traits from them.
Perhaps physical ones can easily be seen: hair color, eye color, build, long legs, small hands. Those are things we genetically pass along to them along with all the other ancestral DNA.
There are, though, traits we have no idea as to how they will play out. Temper, temperament, demeanor, attitude, aspirations. We hope and pray they get the more positive traits each parent has. In truth, we cannot control the ones they will have.
Only recently have I learned that both of my daughters have taken up something that I think came from my parents to me – and me to them. The gift of writing. My father used to write poetry. He wrote amazing letters to my mom during their “courtship” in 1945-1946. My mom wrote some as well. I found a few short things she’d written on her computer after her passing.
I have journaled or written diaries intermittently over the years. Those things just revealed the mundane things that happened. I dabbled in poetry here and there over the years. After the girls were born, I chronicled some of the things they’d accomplished or vacations we took, that sort of thing.
When Mike died, I was encouraged by my therapist to write out my thoughts and feelings to assist in processing the emotions tearing through my mind.
It wasn’t until I decided to take a memoir writing class that I truly started to write more. I learned various techniques for conveying stories, for relating events and for passing on to my children information about my life. I’ve since written at least a hundred stories about my life.
When George was diagnosed with cancer, writing became my way of coping with the horrific times we went through and chronicling life’s passages. My blog, (www.pseudomyxomacancer.blogspot.com) details our journey from start to finish. Five years.
Last year, Sara started to write a blog which she found helpful to process the events surrounding her at the time. She titled hers, “The Life Inside Me”.
This past week, Becke joined in the family ‘hobby’ of blogging. “Keeping It Real With Just Becks”.
Each one of the girls writes in their own style and tells their stories in unique ways, just as I do. They talk about things that are totally relatable and in a way that draws the reader in. Just like their mom.
You see, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. And this tree is thrilled to watch her apples put on a magnificent display of color, showing just how strong yet vulnerable they are.