Memories spin in her head like an old news reel. A young woman, waiting for the cue to board the Aquitania. Leaving all she knew, to follow her soldier husband to a foreign land across the Atlantic. Her Gran seeing her off. The cabin, her new home, wind blowing through cracks. Wood stove, frozen water buckets, and learning to cook. A mother-in-law who never thought she was good enough. The bairns lost. The two who lived. The girl now has daughters of her own. Five generations of women blazing their trail with grit, determination, laughter and tears.

Writing about the life of a WWII war bride in 99 words is not an easy feat. Especially when you know the woman, the story. It took another 1000+/- words to do the condensed version. From that, paring it down further to tell a snippet of the story, creating an image of the woman. Eventually, I will take on the task of writing Mom's story; but, for now, I give you 99 words about an amazing woman.

Water sputters across roof tops from garden sprinklers. Taps open wide. Smoke bellows over the ridge. Flames crowning tree pushed by the fire’s own weather system. Retreat choices are gone. The argument to stay, to fight for my livelihood, my life, lost. I hear the helicopter coming to extract me from this hell I didn’t ask for. Tears splash through grime on my face and I wipe my nose on my sleeve, not giving a damn who sees the raw emotion. Sniffing, I take one last look, before the chopper dips, retreating towards the other end of the valley.