Preface: My mother has been tracing our family’s history for many years now. Many of our ancestors on her side of the family were German and wrote in German script. She has been painstakingly translating the letters they wrote and kept. During our recent vacation my mother told us about some of our ancestors and the lives they led. All of it was fascinating.
This morning I asked Emma what she wanted to write about. Emma typed, “I want to write about recent stories heard.” I said, “Okay. What do you mean by that? What recent stories are you referring to?” Emma then typed the following story.
“I will write about an ancestor who is imaginary.
“Long ago in another era there lived a writer who did not think in words. She was fiercely independent in an age when this was not viewed favorably. She was believed to be peculiar and could not say what she thought as words escaped her, fleeing to dark, secret places out of reach. The only way to capture the words was by writing them down, restraining them to the confines of a piece of paper. This made her sad for the words that wanted nothing more than to run wild and free. So she spoke and the words rushed out, but other people did not understand and thought she needed to be controlled. She was my ancestor.”