The posts keep giving ...

And I'm sure she didn't think about that.

I know a lot of people in their 60’s, 70’s that have social media but they never post. They simply lurk, staying in the shadows while quietly keeping tabs on their friends and family.

My mother was not one of them.

This woman posted—recipes, videos of her taking the kids to see buffalo, and so many requests for people to send her gifts on online games. (*facepalm*) The recipes weren’t always legible, and the videos were often a dizzying mess of laughter and camera bumps and you couldn’t tell my children or buffalo were present if she didn’t caption it as such.

I’ll be honest. I used to scroll right by them when she’d post and shake my head, not giving them a second thought.

My mother died two-and-a-half years ago.

I was her only child. My dad, who raised me (although not my father biologically), had four other children from a previous marriage. The youngest of them was ten years older than me. Simply put, I had the best of both worlds: only child and baby of the family.

My daddy died many years ago. When my mother passed away, I was hit with (and continue to deal with) a weird phenomenon that I call “the not orphan syndrome.” There might be a medical name for this, I don’t know, but it’s a real thing. I promise you.

I have a big, wonderful family—a husband and four sons that keep me busy, laughing, and full of hugs and love. And I certainly wasn’t an orphan. But there’s a part of my core, a place in my heart, that whispers to me daily that no one remembers the stories of my past. No one shares my memories. I have no one to call when I forget the names of my friends in North Carolina (we lived there for a little under a year when I was really little), and there’s no one to ask how they arranged for a sound to hit the roof the year that my grandpa’s best friend, Amos, dressed up as Santa Claus. It can feel very, very lonely. Almost like the “me” before now has been forgotten.

Notice that I said “almost”.

Every day, I get on social media like most of the world and Facebook, in particular, gives me “Memories”. And as I sort through those, almost every day I see something my mother tagged me in at some point through the years.

“Hey, Addy—try this recipe! I think the boys will like it!”

A shared graphic about how much her daughter means to her.

A fuzzy picture of a picture she found while cleaning out a drawer and her associated memories. “Remember when your dad went fishing in Minnesota when we lived in the little house and sent you those postcards? Look what I found!”

I probably wouldn’t have remembered those had she not shared that on Facebook.

Sometimes, I wish I had posted a little more, tagged her in a few more things, and interacted with her a few more times so that I would have those memories now. Because the posts that I thought were a one-off, another silly ramble by my mother, mean the world to me now.

Then again, she probably thought this out. She was determined not to be forgotten, and I’m pretty sure this might’ve been her way to pressure me into making certain things for dinner even now. ;)

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I get asked all the time how much of my life is in my books. Honestly, there are bits and pieces of me and my story in each and every book I write.

But the Carmichael Family Series contains TONS of elements from my life, past, heart, and soul—stories inspired by my parents, children, and husband. One of this series's biggest “inspired pieces” is the family text messages between them. It’s how the parents and children use electronic communication to stay close and connected (and Banks’s shenanigans, of course).

There are some real gems in FLAUNT, Banks’s book, which comes out on June 2nd. Writing those exchanges was one of my favorite parts of the process and I can’t wait for you to read them!

Have you preordered?

“Banks Carmichael is every woman's dream. No matter the age. No matter the circumstances. Banksy is EVERYTHING. He is the epitome of fun, wild, playful, thoughtfulness. He is the witty, loving, fierce little brother that only the luckiest of siblings could possibly have. He is just incomparable. And he is every bit of all things Sara needs. The steadiness, the loyalty, the teasing, the consistency. I saw a lot of myself in Sara, and maybe that's why I love Banks so much, I'll never know. But he just won Carmichael of the year award, no questions asked.” -Savannah Medina, Goodreads Review