Ann was starting to slip.  Her doctor had her take a behind-the-wheel driving test and, sure enough, they took her license. Her kids said, and she agreed, that she needed more help at home.

She had only just been diagnosed with dementia, but she already couldn't call up words. It was like they were in a locked chest. She and her kids knew that, in time, her memories would disappear.

Her daughter, Sara, called me saying there was no time to waste.

I think it's safe to say that most of our parents are not in therapy. And it's probably also safe to say that they don't sit around recounting deep held memories and emotions with their friends, things like:

If you're one of the lucky ones, you have your person - the one you open your soul to. But let's face it, many of our parents are private and would never go there.

"Are you comfortable telling us your age?"

That's how Julia Louise-Dreyfus starts each episode of her podcast, "Wiser than Me".

Gasp. I don't know about you, but I was taught that that is a very rude question. But why?

My mother's response to the age question had always been a wink and twenty-nine. That was until I was 20. Then she was 39.

"Hold old do you feel?"

"Speaking of Willie Mays, I have a photo of him and me from my 1988 trip to SF Giants Fantasy Camp – both of us in our Giants uniforms. If you had told me when I was 9 or 10 that someday I would be in such a photo, I would have cried just from the thought of it."

For David, this photo is proof of a dream come true.

At 91 and the self-professed 'last one standing' Adele says, "I look at these photos on the walls and think…

"I did all the talking!"

We've just had a lively, lovely conversation and are saying our good-byes until next time. That's when it hits. She talked, I listened.

My job is to ask open-ended questions and let the client think aloud.

• What kind of neighborhood did you grow up in? 

• What kind of kid were you?

When I asked Bridget what kind of father her deceased husband was to their kids, she took a deep breath.

I've become very comfortable with the silent pauses. 

"Family members see each other at their best and when they're not at their best. Gary made a real effort to not be like his father, but we only have the first-hand models that we have."

Bridget's letter gave her a chance to explain Gary's complexities to her kids. 

Frank lives in a memory care residence. He's 84, has dementia and is delightful. He doesn't remember why we're having these conversations, but he's amenable. And when I asked about his father, he lights up.

"My father never said a word. Not a word. He spoke through his actions." 

At 91, Ann has a simple recipe for her ideal day. "The perfect day is when I wake up refreshed, get outside for some exercise and spend time with my husband."

Sounds like a lovely day. 

Then she said, "A perfect day is when I learn something -- about me or the people around me -- without judgement."

I had just finished reading Mitzi's letter to her. Pause. Then, "It's so warm and sounds just like me."

Pause. "But there's something that's not sitting right with me. Will you read it again?"

Where was I when my mother was packing up? 

My father had died. Ima had made the brave decision to move across the country. Now she just had to go through...an entire house!

Like most of our parents' homes, this one was filled with a lifetime of shared memories. 

My mother moved out to California about 9 years ago...two years after my father died. It was the right move. She and my father had actually wanted to move together. But that's another story.

The move made sense. And it was hard. Her life and the people in it were in New Jersey. 

But my mother, Irene, can be a rock when it matters most. She said, "I want to move while I'm active and can easily make friends."

Just before Gary died, his son recorded him talking about how he met and fell for his mom, Kate, 43 years ago. Gary had told this story many, many times over the years. It was always the same story.

But this final time, he changed the narrative. Kate was surprised and heartbroken. Since then, Kate has wanted to set the record straight, not just for future generations. She wanted to honor Gary, her beloved. Can you imagine how thrilled she was when her kids gifted Family Love Letters to her?

Trina didn't have the dream mother. Unlike Sean's mom, who was friendly and always had fresh baked cookies on hand, Trina's mother was distant and overly strict.

Once she forgive her mom, she focused on the takeaways.

"I learned from my mom how NOT to be.”

"Grandma began investing in the stock market in 1902. She'd park my mother's baby carriage outside the brokerage firm's window, and peer inside to watch the ticker tape."

Can't you picture it?

"Two guys and two girls got out (of the car) and starting walking towards us. I turned toward my friend and said, "I'm not sure I can play today. I think I have double vision!"

My friend said, "There ARE two of them."

One of the girls was Auntie Joyce and the other was your mom. Yes, TWINS!"

his story and image were etched in Len's brain. You should have heard the joy and amazement in his voice as he told me how he and his wife met.

Here's your parents' logic: If you wanted to know their stories, you'd ask. You're not asking, so you must not be interested.

This is really what they're thinking. But you are interested!

A 2005 study (by Allianz Life Insurance) surveyed 2,627 baby boomers and elders. For both groups, the non-financial pieces of their parents' legacy was 10 more important than finances and possessions.