Writing is a futile attempt to preserve what disappears moment by moment. All that remains of my mother is what I remember and what I have written for and about her. Eventually that is all that will remain of [my husband] and me. Writing sometimes feels frivolous and sometimes sacred, but memory is one of my strongest muses. I serve her with my words. So long as people read, those we love survive however evanescently. As do we writers, saying with our life's work, Remember. Remember us. Remember me.
Marge PiercyTroubles cured you salty as a country ham, smoky to the taste, thick-skinned and tender inside.
Marge PiercyRemember that every son had a mother whose beloved son he was, and every woman had a mother whose beloved son she wasn't.
Marge Piercy