The Hour of Remembering

Grace laughed. "Ok, Gram, I'll peel and you talk."
"By now, you've heard every story I can tell. But I've always said
it's a grandparent's job to tell the family stories. Still, I think you
got a full load from your grandpa and shouldn't need to hear
much more from me." As she talked, she was rolling out the
crusts.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm still in school. It's the history, all the
stories. They're just not written down. And every time someone
tells more, I find another detail I hadn't heard before, or maybe
had never caught. How do you remember so much of it, Gram?"
"Now I mean it, Gracie, you peel those apples. We're going to
need them soon enough. As for all these tales, well I think they
hang around in corners of this old house and finally just fall onto
the heads of everyone here. But just you listen to whoever is
telling because you will have to tell others."
"I want you to tell my children all you've told me."
"It may not happen the way you want, Gracie." Her voice was soft, regretful.