I’ve spoken and written many times about listening to my Grandma’s stories and feeling an urgency to write them down, especially once dementia began stealing her memories. As it turns out, Grandma had already written some of them. Her letter from November 1934 inspired the third and eleventh chapters of my new novel, Where Flowers Once Grew. Even the title comes from a scene inspired by this letter. Having Grandma’s stories in her own voice, flavored by her age as well as the time and place she grew up in is a treasure.
Next week, I’ll share the a bit of my chapters with you, but for now, enjoy Maxine’s telling, as written in a letter to her Aunt Edgalea (pronounced Edge-uh-lee).
Writing letters is a lost art. This letter is precious. I can picture a girl sitting with her little wooden pencil, pouring out all the significant aspects of life onto the paper, her hands cramping from the beautiful cursive flow?
I want to go back to hand written letter days
They were the good ones!
What a wonderful letter, her youth shines through in the most beautiful way!