Thanks, Open (May I call you Open?)

There is much to be celebrated, these days. A couple of months ago, that intrepid (but charmingly inept) big game hunter, Elmer Fudd encouraged me to start writing down family memoirs, as it was clear that My mother didn't have long to live. That encouragement was a beautifully timed blessing. Last year, I did a Family Album Of Songs for my Mother for her birthday. It was a combination of family photos, rembrances and lyrics to songs that I've written about my childhood (and my Mother's, too.) That led to a workshop of the same title that I did at NOMAD last year. This time around, the emphasis has shifted a little, but I've been writing a book that is memories, photographs and songs, with the "memories" greatly expanded. I've written over 50 pages now, and shared them with my Mother, my sisters, other family members and several other Catter friends, through the Kitchen Table thread. It's something that I'd strongly encourage people to do. Much of what I've written is drawn from writings and letters from the early 80's, when I spent a lot of time talking with my Mother and Father about their early life. I have a couple of cherished letters from my Mother remembering the years when she was growing up on the farm, and scattered letters from Uncles and former neighbors of my Father talking about his youth.

These last two months, I've been sending off the pages as I write them, and even though Mom couldn't see well enough to read them, she has a dear angel of a friend who would read to her every night. It was something that my Mother really looked forward to, and she had many conversations with my sisters about those letters. Last week, I sent her a copy of the recent CD that I produced on my own, which had three songs that grew out of memories of the early days of our family. The day before she died, her friend put on the CD, which had just arrived, and my Mother had a wonderful time listening to it.

Yesterday, my oldest sister, who has been incapacitated almost completely for the last several months was finally well enough to have her husband take her out to the assisted living complex where my Mother lived. How beautiful that my sister and Mother had a chance for one last visit. The next day, she was gone.

Savor the moment.

Jerry