Last week, my family and I flew into the smog of the Southern California fires for the military burial of my wife’s grandmother, Marie Molocznik. She lived an incredible 97 years, leaving behind a life that was complex, bold, and impactful. As a Sergeant in the Women’s Army Corps during World War II, Marie played a significant role in a time when women were stepping into new opportunities and responsibilities. Her burial, complete with a 21-gun salute, wasn’t just a moment to say goodbye—it was a moment to reflect on her legacy and the values she left behind.
A Life Lived Boldly
Marie was not an easy person to know. She could be sharp, uncompromising, and unapologetically herself—qualities that didn’t always make her the most popular person in the room. And yet, her impact on those around her, especially my wife, was undeniable. She was a constant, unwavering presence in my wife’s childhood. Summers spent traveling to Yosemite with Marie and her husband (“Grandpap” to all who knew him) became cherished adventures. While Grandpap’s kind and doting nature softened Marie’s sometimes sharp edges, it was Marie’s steady hand and presence that helped instill in my wife an enduring sense of responsibility to family.
Marie’s approach to life wasn’t perfect, but she lived boldly and authentically, even when the world might have asked her to do otherwise. That courage, though not always easy for others to embrace, has left a lasting impact—on my wife, and indirectly, on me. It’s a reminder that legacies aren’t about perfection. They’re about the values we pass on, even if they come wrapped in complexity.
Seeing Through a New Lens
This trip gave me something unexpected—a chance to reframe the way I saw Marie. For the past 25 years, I had only known her in the later stages of her life, when her sharpness and lack of social filters often overshadowed other parts of her personality. But hearing more about her history changed my perspective. Her time as a Sergeant, her long career at the Southern California Gas Company, and her resilience in navigating a world that wasn’t always welcoming to ambitious women told a fuller story. She wasn’t just difficult—she was bold, determined, and unafraid to carve her own path.
The way I came to see Marie’s story reminds me of the journey Jayden takes in Earthlog. At first, Jayden views Zin, the alien newcomer, through a lens of uncertainty and unease. But as their friendship grows, Jayden learns to see Zin for who they truly are—a being with their own struggles, strengths, and history. Much like my reflections on Marie, Jayden’s experience shows that when we take the time to understand someone’s story, our perspectives shift, and connections deepen.
The Stories We Tell
Marie’s life reminds me of the power of storytelling to preserve legacies and reshape understanding. The more I heard about her service and her life’s challenges, the more I realized how much her unapologetic way of living had shaped those around her. For Marie, her legacy lives on in my wife’s deep commitment to family and her resilience in facing life’s challenges.
These ideas inspire how I approach storytelling in Earthlog. Jayden’s journey isn’t just about facing alien adventures—it’s about discovering that connection comes from looking past assumptions and embracing complexity. By reflecting on someone’s story, whether it’s a person we know or a character we meet, we can uncover the values and lessons they leave behind.
Passing the Torch
Traveling to Southern California amidst the smoke of the Los Angeles fires wasn’t just about honoring Marie—it was about gaining clarity through the haze, both literal and figurative. Just as the smoke of the fires obscured the horizon, the complexities of her later years often clouded a full appreciation of her legacy. But hearing the stories of her past—her service as a WWII Sergeant and the values she quietly instilled—brought her life into sharper focus. It reminded me that legacies are not defined by simplicity but by the courage to live authentically and the stories we share to preserve and illuminate that impact.
This experience reinforced the importance of shaping perspectives through storytelling. The way we choose to tell a story—what we highlight, what we carry forward—has the power to shift how others see the world and themselves. These reflections have inspired me as I craft Earthlog: My Seventh Grade Year Between Worlds. The second book in the series will delve deeper into themes of rituals, connection, and understanding, using storytelling as a way to bridge divides and foster empathy.
Earthlog, My Not So Normal Sixth Grade Year releases on June 26, 2025, and Book 2, Earthlog: My Seventh Grade Year Between Worlds, will follow in winter 2025. I’m excited to share these stories with you and continue this journey together.
EarthBlog, signing off.
