Keeper of the flame

Have been in California since the 8th. My 91 year old aunt passed on the 7th. And I got here as soon as possible to help comfort my 88 year old mother. She is doing better then expected. And I am hoping there won't be a delayed reaction after I go.

This past Sunday my older sister was over. She comes once or twice a week to help with cleaning chores. Before I took her to BART so she could catch a train home, I asked my mother to tell once a again a story that she has been telling for years about my sister. But she did not remember it. Even after I told her most of it, nothing came to mind.

After I returned, I asked my mother if this meant that I was now the keeper of the family stories. She said yes. My reply was that I wasn't ready to take on this responsibility. And she told me that no matter, the task was mind.

As far back as I can remember I have listened to and lived the family stories. Now I am the keeper. This is not to say that others can't keep and tell stories. But it was my responsibility to remember all I would be told, and to repeat all the stories as often as I could.

In some ways this is an honor, but even more it needs to be done.