Mae of Clay

Does anyone else have something that you and your siblings remember happening when you were growing up that everyone else either can’t remember or insists didn’t happen?

My siblings and I remember our eldest brother getting in the driver’s seat of our van when he was young (maybe 9 at the oldest), with the rest of us in the back and driving down the street away from our Grandma’s house. No one else has any memory of this. 

You know, I often realize that I have this crippling fear of not being remembered. It’s probably the #2 drive behind my writing and wanting to be an author. I want people to know I was here and be able to pass on a bit of me. 

THAT SAID. People who are not in the public eye: KNOW THAT I SEE YOU AND OBSESS ABOUT YOU TOO.

I am not a farmer, or a factory worker, or a laborer, and heck, I hardly even know any. But you guys literally feed us and clothe us and help keep us safe and comfortable. It’s daunting to realize that most people in that line of work are raised in it-and their numbers aren’t growing much. The fact that I’m not a farmer and know maybe 2 farmers-who DO NOT have children who are growing to be farmers, is scary. We all want the spotlight, or to have very specific, niche careers.