I'm in an odd situation. I have one brother and one sister and none of us has children. So, our particular line dies with us. Still, I find myself preoccupied lately with where we came from, what lineage made us who we are. Some of it I know, some can be discovered. Unfortunately, a lot of that died with my mother, in January of this year.

There are those odd photos and stories that I wish I could ask my mom about, those family photos that you think you know about, but you're really making educated guesses. And today I found the following, that I must share. Of course I know that no family is perfect and some of you have no relationship with your family that is worth trying to support and explore. And we certainly had our times. But, for those of you who do speak to your parents, grandparents, whomever, please take this to heart. I wanted to get my mother's stories down on paper while she was still here to tell me, and I didn't. It's a loss that rips me, body and soul.

Apparently, it was on her mind too. This has to have been written some time in the past eight years since my Dad died, but I never saw it until today. I'm so grateful I found it, but it's such a bittersweet feeling. There's so much I wish I could ask her.

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From my mother, Jamesena Jeanne Coatney Bryant.

Dear Donna, Pat & Mike,

Bill, dear, too,

I must include you all

I must, I must, I must begin to write

Before it's time to go

hesitate -----

And time goes by again

And then, before I realize

Dad joins the list of those who were to go

Before I to my senses came

And sat down to write to them

I must, I must, I must begin to write

Before it's time to go

Too few are left to write to now,

And, who knows -----

I must, I must, I must begin to write

For perhaps I'll be the next to go.