Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The women's group I'm in met this morning, dressed warmly, and we had a lively conversation about our lives in this age of covid. I believe we all felt supported by each other. I told them I realized that after having read three memoirs in a row I realized I wanted to write about my daughter, because she was what I was thinking about. It might be a gift to my granddaughter someday. Since about a year ago I haven't worked on my grandchildren poems or anything other than this blog and my gratitude journal, and I feel a yearning to speak again in a more sustained way. I cannot, of course, capture her complexity or vibrancy, but I am now willing to try. I'm sure others are writing about her as well, and I don't know as much about her adult life after she moved to Hew York, then Spain, then Prague, then Morroco,but I can describe what I do know. I visited her in all those places as well. Writing about my trip to India to visit her would be interesting. I've always imagined she would write about me after I died, so this is a strange, unnatural position to be in, but there it is. She is gone, I am left to tell some of the tale.