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 |  A support forum for writers dealing with mental illness |
The first memoirs I remember reading were my grandmother's. When I was a teen, Grandma would type page after page of the stories of her life. She periodically put the pages into a big yellow envelope and sent them to my mother. We were not allowed to read them but I would sometimes manage to sneak a peak. I am glad I did because something happened later on and either my mother or my grandmother destroyed it all. I am sad it is gone because I would have treasured it. This story tells about the next memoir I read: "I Met Mr. C."  . Mr. C. was not a good writer but what he shared in his memoir was definitely worth reading.In response to my enthusiam about Mr.C.'s memoirs, his son started writing his as well. I tried and failed to persuade my parents to write theirs... I wish I had recorded their stories while they were fresh in my mind. I have not written "my memoirs" per se but I have written some stories about my life. I expect my children and grandchildren will one day treasure them. ruwth may be an odd duck but ~ ~ ~ JESUS is still LORD! ~ ~ ~ |
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