10 Questions to Ask Your Mom
A set for the conversation you have with a notebook open: the names, places and dates that only your mother still holds, plus the recipes, photographs and objects that lose their story the moment nobody can explain them. If you want a shorter set to keep in your head for an ordinary phone call, the seven-question version is built for that.
The questions
Open any question for the note
What was your childhood like and what are your favorite memories?
Why ask it
A gentle opener that gets her describing a household rather than summarising herself. Ask what the house smelled like or who else was living in it, and the answer stops being a summary.
What were your parents' and grandparents' full names, and where were they from?
Why ask it
The single most recoverable thing on this list and the one most often lost. Get middle names, maiden names and the spelling, because two generations back the spelling is frequently the only thread anyone can follow later.
What did your mother and father do for a living?
Why ask it
Occupations date a family more precisely than anyone expects, and they explain the moves, the money and the expectations she grew up inside. Ask what the work actually involved rather than accepting the job title.
Where did the family live before you were born, and what made them move?
Why ask it
Every family has one or two moves that reset everything afterwards, and the reason is usually work, war, a marriage or somebody falling ill. Write down the place names as she says them, including the ones that no longer exist under that name.
What's the best advice you've ever received and who gave it to you?
Why ask it
Who gave the advice matters as much as what it was. Her mother, a teacher, or a first boss tells you which voice she still consults when she has a decision to make.
What's your favorite family tradition and why is it important to you?
Why ask it
Asking why it matters separates the traditions she chose from the ones she inherited and never questioned. The chosen ones are the ones worth keeping when hosting becomes your job.
What were you doing the year you turned twenty-one?
Why ask it
Anchoring on one year gets you an address, a job, a wage and a set of friends in a single answer. It is the most efficient question here for turning a vague decade into something you can actually write down.
What work did you do, and what did an ordinary day of it look like?
Why ask it
Mothers get asked about the family and rarely about their working lives, so much of this goes unrecorded entirely. The ordinary day is what you want: the hours, the journey, who she sat next to, what it paid.
Is there someone in the family nobody talks about, and what happened?
Why ask it
Most families have one, and the silence usually outlives whatever caused it. Ask once, accept a refusal, and if she does tell you, ask what she is happy for you to repeat before you repeat any of it.
What's the most important thing you want me to know about life?
Why ask it
Broad, and she may reach for a platitude. If she does, ask what she would say if she only had one sentence, and the second answer is normally the real one.
Which photographs should not get lost, and who is in them?
Why ask it
An unlabelled photograph becomes worthless within one generation, and she is usually the last person who can name everybody in it. Do this with the box open and write on the back in pencil as you go.
Which recipes should somebody in the family still be able to cook?
Why ask it
Ask her to cook one while you write, because the version in her head has no quantities in it and she will not think to mention the step she does automatically. This is the family history people actually use.
Which friendship has mattered most in your life, and why?
Why ask it
Ask for a name and for how the two of them met. You may find you have never heard of the person, which tells you how much of her life happened outside the part you were in.
What has been the happiest period of your life so far?
Why ask it
It is rarely the year you would guess, and it is often a time that looked hard from the outside. Ask what an ordinary day was like then, because the conditions are what she is really describing.
What do you wish I asked you about more often?
Why ask it
This lets her ask for more of your attention without having to say so directly. Whatever she names, use it the next time you speak, because raising it and then ignoring the answer is worse than never asking.
Which objects in the house have a story attached to them?
Why ask it
Walk round with her rather than asking from a chair. A ring, a clock, a piece of furniture and a scar on a table all carry a story that is invisible the moment she is not there to tell it.
What is something you changed your mind about as you got older?
Why ask it
This is a safe route into subjects that would otherwise become an argument, such as faith, money, or how she was brought up. She is telling you what experience overruled, which is usually more interesting than what she believes today.
What do you do now purely because it makes you happy?
Why ask it
If the answer is a person or a duty, that itself is worth noticing, because the question is about what remains when nobody needs anything from her. A blank here is information, and it is better to sit with it than to fill it in on her behalf.
Which family story do you want to make sure gets passed down?
Why ask it
Asking her to pick one turns a vague wish into something you can actually carry out. Get the names and the rough year while she is telling it, because the version that survives is the one somebody wrote down.
What do you hope I remember about you?
Why ask it
Ask this last and then stay quiet, because it usually takes her a moment to answer honestly. What she names is what she has been hoping landed, and it is often far smaller than you expect: a habit, a phrase, the way she was with you on ordinary days.
Getting It Written Down
Practical guidance for the conversation itself
How to Start
Bring the box of photographs
Objects produce specific stories rather than general ones, and they give her a way in when she is not sure what you are asking for. A photograph, an old recipe card, a school report or a piece of jewelry will each get you further than a direct question about the same decade.
Write during, not afterwards
Names and dates go within the hour, and reconstructing them later produces a confident version that is wrong. Keep a notebook open on the table and say plainly that you are writing things down so nobody has to guess later.
Spell everything back to her
Read the names, the place names and the years back out loud before you move on. This catches the two or three that you heard wrong, and it costs nothing while she is sitting there.
Say why you are asking
Telling her you want the stories written down removes the suspicion that something is wrong or that you are building a case about your childhood. Most mothers are pleased to be asked and assume nobody was interested.
If She Deflects
- If she says she cannot remember, ask what she does remember from that time and work outwards. Memory is easier to reach sideways than straight on.
- If she answers about the family instead of herself, narrow it to a year or a place: what she was doing at twenty-three, or the place you lived before she had you.
- If a name will not come, ask who else might know. A sibling, a cousin or an old neighbour can usually confirm it while she is still able to recognise the right answer.
- If she turns the question back on you, answer briefly and then ask it again. One repeat is normally enough and it shows you meant it.
- If she becomes tearful, stay in the subject for a moment rather than apologizing. Apologising teaches her that the topic upsets you too, and she will steer around it next time.
- Write down what she said the same day. Mothers have a habit of telling you the important part in the doorway as you leave.
What to Avoid
Do not let it become a reckoning
These questions produce material about your own childhood that you may want to argue with. If you have grievances to raise, raise them in their own conversation on a different day, or you will lose both.
Do not record without asking
A phone on the table does change how she talks, but recording her secretly is worse and it is the kind of thing that surfaces later. Ask, accept a no, and take notes afterwards instead.
Do not publish the family silences
Anything she tells you about a relative nobody discusses is hers to release, not yours. Ask what she is content for other people to hear before it goes into anything the wider family will read.
Do not try to cover twenty in one sitting
Five questions with real follow-ups will get you more than twenty asked in order, which starts to feel like a form being filled in. Keep the rest for the next visit.