The end of the story

As my mother neared retirement several people encouraged her to write a book. She brushed them all off, who would publish her, and who on earth would want to read what she wrote?

I tried to have a serious talk with her about it when retirement finally came. She herself freely admitted she led an incredible life, and people loved listening to her tell stories about her life in Bequia, so why not give it a shot?

“I’m a nobody, who would be interested in what I have to say?”

People! I talked about armchair travel books, cited all the books (and their subsequent films) that nobodies wrote that became hits. Most had a singular experience, whereas she had a lifetime of interesting experiences.

“I dunno honey, I’ll think about it.”

Less than a year into retirement, while at a campsite with their RV, my mother made an announcement: she was going to write about her life, but not as a book; she was going to write a blog.

“A blog?! Mother, do you even know what a blog is?!”

“Yes, of course!”

“Do you read blogs?”

“I read one once, it was awful!”

Lord! I shook my head in disbelief. My mother, who claimed she was a dinosaur with technology, was going to write a blog.

And she did.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Anything my mother turned her hand to was a success, be it a restaurant and bakery, renting villas, organizing cruise ships or improving tourism on Bequia. She didn’t know how to do any of those jobs when she started, but she knew how to tell a story! With some help they found a platform and Nik set about learning how to build and maintain a blog. They scanned and tagged old photos and took new pictures to add to the stories my mother would write. And write she did! She would email me the stories to edit, sometimes just one, sometimes several at a time, and I would cut and paste and make suggestions. It’s hard as a writer to accept changes to what you have written, but she was gracious about it. She would print out the original and the one with edits and read them aloud at sunset on the porch to Nik, who would give his input. Through this process a pattern was formed and she found her voice. She would write many and store them to be released while she traveled so the blog never took a break. Eventually she didn’t need me anymore and the stories would be a surprise every Saturday morning while eating my breakfast. Most stories were ones I grew up hearing, like a legend, but many surprised me, having either slipped through a crack in memory or were told after I left home. My sister would read them aloud to her family and would text her “Good one mummy!” They are often funny and lighthearted, but some were sad, some serious. They all reflected an interesting life worth writing about, and an island full of wonderful people that she loved. Bequia has changed several times since the 70’s, and will continue to do so, and the blog captures little snapshots in time that has us all remembering different versions of her. Bequia has many fine storytellers, and I hope the blog inspires them to write their histories down.

Judy has left us, but her stories live on. Her blog is a gift to not just my family but to all who knew her. I will miss reading her posts every week, but mostly I will miss my mother.