The Company We Keep

"Choose your friends carefully, you're known by the company you keep," my mother admonished. Earlier that summer we moved from a very small town where everyone knew not only each other, but pretty much all there was to know about each other's extended family back a couple of generations. Now in the "big city" of Montgomery, it was impossible to know even all the members of the large sophomore class at my new high school. I'm not sure it was so much a matter of my choosing friends as it was a matter of who befriended me, the new girl.

Now, many years later, I hope that Mother's advice is still true. In an earlier blog I jokingly questioned if I might be considered an author groupie or stalker. Hopefully they don't consider me too obnoxious, and I doubt that anyone would ever consider me dangerous. I like to be around writers. Sometimes there is a snob in the group who is very proud of their success, and can't be bothered with lesser beings like me. But, for the most part, the authors I've met are generous and encouraging to those of us who wish to enter their magic circle.

Last weekend I attended the annual conference of the Alabama Writers Conclave. The group claims the distinction of being the oldest writers' organization in continuous existence in the United States. The weekend is packed with sessions conducted by writers in various genres, times to mingle with other participants, and a ceremony during which the winners of the annual competition are announced. That writers from almost every state vie for these awards says something. Then throw in that the conference met in Fairhope, Alabama - well, what more could one want? Did I forget to mention that Rick Bragg was our keynote speaker?

It was a wonderful weekend. It is my hope that things I learned there will help me improve my writing. Being around all those people who are actively writing inspires me.

 Oh, that I would be known by keeping company with that interesting group!

The Things We Leave Behind

Although time and geography have spread our family members apart, we still consider each other close kin to about thirteenth cousin out. Actually I’m not good at all the rankings of first, second, third cousin once removed, et cetera.  So the easiest way to explain my relationship to a cousin who visited last week is that our grandfathers were brothers.

During her visit was we shared old photos, documents, and other genealogical information.  One of the unexpected treasures that she brought was an audio tape which my mother had made in 1998, when she was 81 years old. At that time Mother was visually impaired to the extent that she could no longer read, so writing letters was no longer possible. My cousin requested that, as a gift for her young daughter, my mother make a tape of remembrances about her grandmother, (the late great-great-grandmother of the child.)

Until recently I had no idea that this tape existed. Because Mother died in 2005, it was bittersweet  to hear the tape the first time. First it brought tears, then joy to hear her voice again. I barely remember the grandmother, my great-grandmother, that Mother reminisced about, because she died when I was only six years old. So hearing Mother’s remembrances was as much a gift to me as it was for the great-great-grandchild born many years later.

All this has made me wonder what I should be leaving for my children or grandchildren. Have I told them the stories of my childhood, memories of my grandmothers, of my mother? They may not be that interested now, but many years from now would they find it as interesting as I did Mother’s tape about my great-grandmother?  From all accounts, my great-grandmother did not consider herself special, and neither did my grandmothers, nor my mother. But  each of them left a priceless legacy - funny, sometimes touching, family stories, and memories of them that warm me like a hug. What could be more special than that?