living the story

  Laura Rose, my great grand aunt was on my mind most of yesterday. A person I never knew, just a name from the past, but occupying the present day. I know only a tiny piece of her story with no expectation to learn anything more. She passed in 1891 at the age of sixteen and a half, in a family way as the saying goes, and without a husband. The child, as near as I can tell, didn't survive either. Two lives lost. The cause of death is unknown to me and I am in search of the death certificate, surely that will explain. But records from that time are scarce and not always complete. That was one hundred and thirty years ago. Much was not spoken of in those days. I found a possible clue. There was a letter, just days before her death. I wonder just who that letter was from and what the contents may have been. Was the contents of that letter a precipice? Did that letter cause her fall? Of course it could just as easily been completely innocuous. I don't expect I will ever know those answers. Still I went through the day with her on my mind. At the end of the day I concluded that Laura Rose has not been forgotten and perhaps that brings her some rest. I am compelled to write about her, to record her name for posterity. I am well aware of one thing however, all I can tell is a story. A story I compose. It is like I often say, when we are gone all that is left is our story. If you don't write it, someone else will. I can't help but wonder, what would Laura Rose have to say? What is her story? I have been unable to locate her final resting place.

  Is it just curiosity that kept her on my mind? Yes I suppose that would have to be it, what other reason could there be? A second great grand aunt that passed away one hundred and thirty years ago influencing the present. Now I believe the past exists to teach us. What is the lesson Laura Rose is trying to send? I'm thinking it may be as simple as, tell the whole story. I stepped on this path thinking about my mom, her life and her story. She certainly never confided any secrets about any of that with me. I once wrote a story about her Mother, my maternal grandmother, about what I thought her life was like. It upset my mother quite a bit. I was shocked with her response. I didn't think I had written anything unflattering or unfair about Grandmother Bennett. It was written as a history, a story told by one who knew her. I will do the same for my mother one day, although I hesitant. Perhaps Laura Rose is telling me, don't wait, tell the story. 

 Storytellers have the power to create heroes as well as villains. It's a responsibility. With few left to dispute the tale the line between fiction and non-fiction the story can be crafted. The challenge lies in authenticity. Can I truly write an unbiased account? I'd have to say no, I don't believe that is possible. It could be that is what upset my mother so with my story of her mother. Certainly her facts differ from mine. Two sets of facts, for one event? Yes, that is the case and both sets of facts are equally valid. Both were told in the first person, Telling the story of Laura Rose however would be quite a bit different, filled with conjecture and speculation. But the truth is the same can be said about those that we knew and loved. Much of their lives are conjecture and speculation on our parts. Could be that is what ghosts are all about, lives unsettled. It is my thought that by writing the story it can be settled. I'm also thinking maybe it is something you have to do for yourself. When you pass are you happy with the story you have written? You are the only one who knows. RIP Laura Rose, you are not forgotten. Fact is, I'm thinking you are a reminder.