Thanks, Elizabeth! When we get to Hollins, let’s be 9-year-olds at least one whole day!

Sheila: I suspect your childhood was a lot like my husband’s, good, and therefore “unremarkable.” Which isn’t true, of course. Everyone’s childhood made them who they are. My memories are slipping away, too, at an alarming rate. It’s a struggle to hold on to them as the years mount up. And since there are no “triggers” left, they will continue to melt away unless I make a concerted effort to remember. Maybe I stay in the past too much. Maybe. But it’s how I write for children, by tapping into the child I was.

We are supposed to adjust to change, but I’ve never been good at it. It’s hard enough to remember how old places used to look without them being so changed you can’t find a single familiar landmark. It makes us feel as if that place didn’t exist, and neither did we.

Oh, Ruth, you are so sweet. I honestly don’t know why I write these essays. Mostly I’m bothered by something and I try to figure it out by writing. Much of the time I’m trying to figure out the same thing, which makes me worried I’m repetitive. Like many people, I’m haunted by a past I can’t go back to, can’t fix, and can’t get answers to.

I hope you will someday compile all your posts into a memoir. These observations of life are nothing short of brilliant. And that’s not even the right word. You have a gift for words that leaves me stunned. And moved. I don’t always have time to post a reply, but know that your writing touches my heart, and I feel that someday this all needs to be in a book, in many people’s hands and hearts.

xxxRuth