My Mother's life and even more so, her death has been the driving force in my almost frantic desire to write and document. She had an incredible life of challenges and acheivements, that I took completely for granted even as an adult....until she died. It was while searching for comfort at her house shortly after her death that I realized there was nothing of her there. Nothing that told any kind of story as to who or what she had been, or that she had even been. Her challenging life had long been the topic of interest in the small 'old family' southern town outside of Atlanta that we moved to from California when I was a pre-teen and yet no diaries, few photo's, letters or memorabilia of any kind had been kept. That was when it occurred to me that i could take all these stored memories and write about them from my perspective. With words on paper I could hold her close, examine all of her acheivements and the real reasons behind them. I could re-examine all the areas of her life that I casually observed and accepted as the norm while a child and as an adult. With words on paper there could be a chance that I could forgive myself for things I left undone, unsaid, that would have made life easier for her. By telling bits of her story I would be leaving explanatory pieces of both of us for my children and grandchildren. Tangles of stories, characters and situations sit in my head, waiting to be put on paper. Sitting there because of my fear of not being able to write with total honesty . Perhaps beginning with fictional characters will lessen the intimidation to write some of the darker things that continue to fester in my heart.