Long years and many deaths and a clan flung far and wide
This family needs its history
And I'm the matriarch?
This mantle thrust upon me in my waning middle years
Be mentor, sage, historian, fount of wisdom
Keeper of the keys to an ancient treasure trove
Makes no concessions for aging brain and capricious memory
The stories of fathers and mothers
How will our children know?
Of how they struggled and suffered and sacrificed
And loved and laughed and lived?
Of oral history made rich with lively anecdotes
Of colorful personalities and their stories
Of valuable hard-learned lessons they impart
Now it falls on me
Will I be worthy of memory?