Good question, why write?
I never knew my grandparents—- well, only one for a little while.
At least a million times I have wished that I could question and converse with them.
Both of my children encouraged me to leave something of myself so my grandchildren could “peer” into myself.
I read a scripture, recall a memory, see the beauty– see a danger– and I write.
In this way I leave, not gold, but maybe a little silver, as my hair has so turned.