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Continued from page 19
website at www.nhpco.org.) when they left their childhood homes
forever? Who were my parents before
If you struggle to come up with words they became my parents? Once they
of your own, borrow from poets, musi- were all young, full of life, eager to
cians, playwrights, biographers, saints, embrace the freedoms and promises of
or my mom.
a still-new land. All that history is lost
Below is an excerpt from my mother’s forever.
ethical will.
That’s when I realized that something
“Children tend to think of their parents was missing in my will. I needed to say
and grandparents as people who exist more, write something that went beyond
for and revolve solely around them. Yet that cold, dry, legal jargon, something
adults live other lives, often unknown more than the distribution of my
to their children. My own parents were worldly goods. I wanted to leave a writ-
loving and generous to me, but other ten statement, a link to those who had
than a few brief stories, I realize that I gone on before me and to the genera-
know little of their childhood, their in- tions that will come after me. I wanted
ner lives, their dreams and plans, what my children and my grandchildren to
they hoped to achieve, and what they know of my journey, who I was, what
believed they did accomplish. I thought and believed. Most of all, I
wanted my family to know how much I
How I would cherish a letter from my loved them.”
parents or my grandparents telling me
about their youthful dreams and hopes, Reprinted with permission of the author.
their triumphs and their failures. How
did my immigrant grandparents feel