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| My family. © Lloyd Lemons |
The young ones need to have a story to tell, even if their interest seems low
It’s interesting how some of us come to be known as having a certain role in this life. I had a cousin who was known as the guitarist in the family. I suppose because he owned several and played in a jazz band from time to time, and often brought his guitar over to teach me the fundamentals when I was young.
I often feel like the unofficial keeper of my family’s story. Not that I have extensive knowledge of our history, because I don’t. My elders didn’t do much sharing of that kind of thing. In fact, some kinfolk were tight-lipped about family stories, perhaps afraid that some delicate secrets might be exposed.
Building the story
My history is limited to the anecdotes I got from my mother, a few cousins, and a handful of social connections, which isn’t much. But in the process, I’ve acquired probably a couple of hundred family-related photos, some that go back to the early 1900s.
Casually sharing these photos at family get-togethers seems to encourage talk about the old days. I don’t risk asking too many pointed questions; I let them talk. It’s surprising the stories that are often revealed.
Over the years I’ve pieced together some thin narratives of where we came from, how we formed a family, and the actions we took to arrive at where we are now. It’s not much, but it is something. And it’s something I want to share with my two sons and four grandchildren – even if they don’t currently seem particularly interested.
The young will appreciate your effort … eventually
Stories like these eventually connect with young people. They may be slow to acknowledge it at first blush, but their wide eyes and attentive listening belie their seeming indifference. Their brains are quietly recording these stories for recall later in life.
Some are silly stories, and everyone gets a laugh around the dinner table. Some are sad and profound, and others intrigue, like the time my son, at the age of seven, was missing from his classroom after his lunch break. An army of concerned friends, police, and school officials were looking for him. To make the matter more urgent, a known pedophile was on the loose in the area. After two hours of frantic searching, we found him. He was hiding under a leafy tree in the back of the schoolyard with a friend, oblivious to the fact that lunch break had ended long ago.
Something else I’ve done to capture family memories began with a company called Storyworth. Storyworth prompts you to write your stories, then publishes your work in a hardcover book for a very reasonable fee. I already published Volume One, and working on Volume Two.
Together we make a life
The sharing of stories and connecting of dots that mark the pathway of a life fully lived creates closer relationships that offer health and wellness benefits for both the young and the old alike. Every child needs an elder, and every elder needs the young. We might not think we have an influence on them, but we do. Stories build relationships that build trust and ensure you will remain a participant in the big story when you’re gone.
We’re all part of the human family, and we each have made an imprint on the world. Personal legacies are stories that need to be told and lessons that can be shared. And this is true whether you’re a parent, grandparent, or an elder mentor.
Anthropologist Margaret Mead said, Connections between generations are essential for the mental health and stability of nations.
Novelist Isabel Allende’s mother, Francisca Llona, shared a comforting perspective on loss, famously telling her: There is no death, daughter. People die only when we forget them. If you can remember me, I will be with you always.
By sharing stories, we leave an indelible imprint of our beliefs and values for all generations that follow us. And we give an enduring gift to our sons and daughters of a family history that makes their lives more complete.