I went to my grandmother, your great-great-grandmother, and asked her to write a letter. She was my mother's mother. Your father's mother's mother's mother. I hardly knew her. I didn't have any interest in knowing her. I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.What kind of letter? my grandmother asked.I told her to write whatever she wanted to write.You want a letter from me? she asked.I told her yes.Oh, God bless you, she said.The letter she gave me was sixty-seven pages long. It was the story of her life. She made my request into her own. Listen to me.
The narrator recalls a moment from his childhood when he asked his great-great-grandmother, the mother of his mother, to write a letter. Despite not knowing her well or having much interest in family history, he felt compelled to reach out. His initial perception was that the past held no relevance for him, a perspective typical of youth. He failed to recognize that the past can have significance and needs to be remembered.
When she agreed to write the letter, the grandmother expressed gratitude, and what she delivered turned out to be an extensive 67-page account of her life. This unexpected outcome highlights how she transformed the simple request into a deep, personal narrative. The experience serves as a reminder of the importance of connection to one's roots and the stories that shape identities.
