The Hour of Remembering

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Grace laughed. "Ok, Gram, I'll peel and you talk." "By now, you've heard every story I can tell. But I've always said it's a grandparent's job to tell the family stories. Still, I think you got a full load from your grandpa and shouldn't need to hear much more from me." As she talked, she was rolling out the crusts. "Sometimes I feel like I'm still in school. It's the history, all the stories. They're just not written down. And every time someone tells more, I find another detail I hadn't heard before, or maybe had never caught. How do you remember so much of it, Gram?" "Now I mean it, Gracie, you peel those apples. We're going to need them soon enough. As for all these tales, well I think they hang around in corners of this old house and finally just fall onto the heads of everyone here. But just you listen to whoever is telling because you will have to tell others." "I want you to tell my children all you've told me." "It may not happen the way you want, Gracie." Her voice was soft, regretful.