Hello good readers! This post is something special. My grandma wrote a short manuscript, created from scraps of things she jotted down over a series of years. She didn’t think it was particularly good, and tucked it away long ago. My mom and Aunt Marsha recently convinced her otherwise, and she’s graciously allowed me to publish it here. I couldn’t be more proud to come from such a line of impressive ladies. If I do have any real writing talent, I clearly come by it honestly.
I love how this gives me a peek into what life was like for my mom’s family when she was growing up. Family history like this is so very precious to me. And even if you don’t happen to be related to me, there’s real wisdom and heart here. (Which, if you know my grandma, you know is completely appropriate.)
Now please enjoy. I know I did.
by Flossie Peterson
This is a bad dream—a nightmare. “Wake-up,” I tell myself. But no. I’m trapped in a fantastic prison. Somehow I see my face contorted with panic as sadistic guards rattle the cage. “Why prolong this?” I scream. “Just take me out of here and get it over!”