Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Leaving a Legacy . . . .

This isn't well written, so I might revise it with time, but bear with me whilst I purge this valuable information.

I'm working, working, working, toiling, toiling, sweating over building my dad's memorial service.

Right after he died, everyone questioned me putting off the memorial service for six months.  I had my reasons then.  As in:  I needed the time, I needed the time, I needed the time.  My kids needed the time.  They had been without me, as in, without me being ENGAGED in their lives for a full month, two holidays and two birthdays, and I left like I needed to focus on them.  Also, I really didn't want his sisters to travel in winter Colorado weather.  And, my brother couldn't be here then.  So, I delayed it.  It's scheduled for July 16th.  I am learning on the fly about putting together a Buddhist memorial.  I don't really know the parts of the service, what is appropriate, what isn't and/or HOW to do it.  This, thank the Gods, is my very first rodeo.

In all honestly, I'm hustling and busting my back to get through his very large photographic footprint and create a DVD with photos and some appropriate things for the service.  I'm sorting, sorting, sorting every day.   He left quite a photographic legacy.

He also left some other things for me, which is where the purpose lies . . .

Like this:





This is a little spiral bound book that I gave my dad as a father's day gift many, many, many years ago.  He wasn't ever much of a talker and I was always hungry for more information and more stories about his childhood.  I always wanted to weave a history through words, like old Native American storytellers.  I wanted something to pass along to my children.  And my children's children.  He unwrapped it and put it aside and neither one of us ever mentioned it again.

But, in one of the boxes of treasures that I've been sifting through, here is the book.  And guess what?

He wrote in it.  He filled in almost every page.  He wasn't verbose.  He didn't have my gift of gab.  But he did write.  And he did tell me.  And I have spent long, long hours reading and re-reading it.  And Big and Middle have both said (already), "mom, will you do this for US?"

So, I'm launching a new blog.  The intent is to record stories and prompts and miscellaneous tidbits of information.  I'll also blog pictures and whatever the urge strikes.  I'm using the book that dad filled in and another similar one and starting points and journaling prompts.  When it's finished, my intent is to publish it through blog-to-print and gift it to my children . . . someday.   I'm considering blogging his stories, too . . . so that I can easily rebind and publish it.

The books that I am working with are, generally speaking,  templates for one prompt per day for one year.   I want to be realistic, so I'm shooting to complete the whole thing in 2-years time.  Who wants to come with me?  Who wants to write their own history and leave a beautiful memoir for their children?  I admit, it's SUCH a mom-thing to do, but I would LOVE the company . . .

Anyone?

P.S. I'm not starting until after the summer.  I really, really need to get through the hundred million things I have on my to-do list first.  Plus, it takes time to assimilate an idea.  So you have time to think about it.


5 comments:

Homestead said...

I'm in.

Maisy said...

I will give it a shot for my kids...

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BA said...

Okay, that's a spam post above mine. Stop it you spammers!

Yes, I want to do the life journal blog!

First, though, let me offer my condolences on the loss of your dad. I know it's been a while, but I wasn't keeping up on my blog or anyone else's during that time, so I missed knowing when it happened. Second, you are NOT going to get through it all in time for the memorial, so let go of that idea if it relieves any pressure for you. I am still going through papers of my mom's. It's fun, and it is good to take it slowly. I'm currently reading letters from her friends and learning or at least being reminded of some fun stuff. And with each one I have to decide--keep, toss, recycle that old greeting card, or return to sender? We have shoeboxes of letters Mother wrote home when we lived in California--Grandma D saved them all. They wrote twice a week for five years!

Elle said...

BA . . . it's so good to hear from you . . . glad you are well. You are right, it's definitely a project to do in small chunks as I get easily overwhelmed and am readily distracted. The letters are fabulous to read through . . . it's in amazing how we've lost the art of writing a simple letter? I was thinking about that not long ago . . . .