Memories can be carbon copies that we keep locked in a file in our copious brain, and yet some memories get deleted with time, distorted, and rewritten by our aging gray matter. At a family reunion you can listen to the same event told by several retired siblings, and the dates, and people present will change. The hero or heroine of the event is sometime one of the aunts, sometimes another. Some things do not change though, and that is the memory of shared laughter, or the way the meadowlarks sang at dusk while the family sat around the pond eating sandwiches and fishing for perch and catfish. The memory of the dragonflies darting towards the corks bobbing on the line, and the way the sun shimmered on the water as the snake slithered across.
Grandparents give us a heritage of one another, an extended family for sharing memories; that is the greatest legacy they can give. The farmland can be sold; stocks can crash with the market. Cousins to catch crawdads with, or help sell lemonade and bait, that is our richest heritage.


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