Should I die, this blog will serve as my son's source of virtual mama.

If I live, I won't have to repeat myself.

sigers writes fiction and nags her son in austin, texas. 

I want you to know that you don't have to have all the words.

Today, your great-greandmother died. Your Grampa Ws’ mom. 

When you are young, you say things like, “At least she had a long life and she passed surrounded by people she loves.”

But I am going to leave nothing to chance. I’m going to TELL you what I want you to do.

If something happens where I can’t communicate, or I get so old that you become hazy to me, please play music and read to me from my books. Please do it often. Of course it will be nice to hear your voice if I am somehow roaming about my shell.

But this is kind of for you. Because so often, people don’t know what to say to a person in that situation. And they become awkward. Or they stay away. Don’t stay away from me. Don’t be afraid. Take a deep breath and come in and smile. Let me know you’re going to be okay.  Just be near, as often as you can.

And if you run out of words, use the words of others. Read my books to me. Read the stories that I wrote to me. Many of the people I love don’t exist anywhere else besides your voice and the pages of a book.