Don’t Let It Disappear: The Importance of Family Stories
Storytelling is a fundamental part of the human experience, connecting us to our roots, sharing family stories across generations, and leaving a lasting legacy.
Coming from a family of quiet introverts, the stories I wish I had asked about are now lost to time. I cannot go back and ask the questions I have held all my life.
Stories remain untold unless we revive them and begin a legacy of sharing the tales that are the fabric of our lives. I want to do a little storytelling to make my point.
Allow me to introduce you to my Aunt Gladys.
Family stories of the author
When I was a teenager, Aunt Gladys held a special place in my heart. Her upstairs apartment, in a classic white Victorian house, was the perfect stop on my long walk home from junior high.
I never quite understood whose aunt she was, though there was some distant connection to kids I viewed as cousins—five times removed. Everyone just called her ‘Aunt.’
Aunt Gladys, a retired schoolteacher and so-called “old maid” of her era, lived frugally in two tiny rooms. A studio couch doubled as her bed and sitting area, accompanied by a small rocking chair and a slant-topped desk in the corner.
It was the same desk that now sits in my bedroom, upon which I write these memories.
Her white curly hair framed dark eyes, radiating quiet grace and reserve, as her wrinkled hands danced with knitting needles, crafting mittens for everyone she knew.
She didn’t speak much. She held her stories in silence amid her minimalist home with icons to a life I knew little about.
I never asked, though I longed to understand her more. What did she teach? Who taught HER to knit? I never saw her drive…did she not have a license?
When I sat at her desk doing homework, my adolescent eyes couldn’t resist peeking into her tiny notebooks tucked in the pigeon holes.
I was impressed how she organized her life in this tidy apartment, every detail meticulously noted in these little books.
I find myself using tiny journals and tucking them in the same pigeon holes. I often wonder what other stories may be hidden in this desk.
It would be several years before I learned of my family’s particulaly close relationship to Gladys. Gladys had a son who was adopted by my grandfather and raised as my mother’s brother.
When I learned of this it explained so many things—like why my parents took her into their home in her final years, why she was always part of the fun musical evenings we had when her son (my mother’s brother), would return from New York with his family for a visit.
I later learned little tidbits about Malcom…how he sold his trumpet to go to NY at eighteen and played tuba for many years in the NY fireman’s band. I try to knit them with stories I knew about Gladys, about all the ‘cousins’ who called her “Aunt’ and about the prevelance and talent for music in our family that extends over generations.
But there were a million other stories never told.
Stories of love and loss now buried with Gladys.
Stories of adventure and music now buried with Malcom. Stories of hardship and survival. Of grace and forgiveness. Of dreams pursued and lessons learned. Of celebrations and homecomings.
Your family stories
We all have stories that we don’t think to share, figuring there is always time, or that no one really cares.
The truth of the matter is we have no way of knowing how much time we have…and there are people who care greatly about the time you served in the war, or picked potatoes as a teenager.
If you are honest, aren’t there stories you would give anything to hear?
Think about the elders in your own life – parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, family friends, neighbors, or community mentors. What wisdom, adventures, triumphs and heartbreaks have they carried with them over the decades?
Make time to sit with them and listen carefully as they reach back into their memories.
Ask questions.
Let them know how important this is to you. You may be surprised by what you learn about their hopes, struggles, and secret loves once locked away. Or it may just be some insight as to why they pour hot water on their shredded wheat.
When we hold back from sharing our stories the richness of our experiences goes unspoken and is eventually lost to time. These tales shape who we are and how we’ve come to view the world. They deserve to be given a voice before the opportunity slips away.
How will your children, grandchildren, or others understand life before digital streaming and artificial intelligence?
How will they learn from the sacrifices their forebears made, obstacles cleared, and courage mustered if the tales remain untold?
We are all storytellers, narrators of the only lives we’ll ever get to live.
What might seem like mundane daily experiences today could one day provide context that helps your children or grandchildren to make sense of their own paths.
Don’t let your stories go unwritten. A simple notebook will do. Share your tales while you can. Begin with one line.
If you would like support to begin, check out The Reflective Collective – a free Facebook group of people who enjoy remembering, writing and sharing stories. You can join here. No time like today to get started!!