How will you know who the part in you is?

She cut you off, your mother. Your mother cuts you off. She thinks you are only a half, but you are not my dear, you are a whole, you have a grandpa and a grandma, I want to tell you about them but you cannot read and you cannot sense it. What will it be? How will you know while I am alive, from me, from your dad, that saw him, your Grandpa and she did not see your grandma and grandpa.
One day  I will go to another world, be put in the stream to join other tired souls, one day I will be gone. Who will tell you who I am? How will you know who you are? Where you came from and how many brave people were there to build everything that you have?
How will you know who the part in you is? 
If I will have enough power to stay, I will tell you.. I will tell you about times when bravery, dignity, cleanness were all that a man needed to brought all the family through the hard times, to build little houses and fix striking little agriculture machines. About times when the harvest was scarce and the tides high, when the fish were not enough and the illness and wars took us apart; the faces of your aunties and uncles and the stories that goes on and own from one generation to the other, from me your dad to your children. .. My daughter.