In my family, story-sharing has always been a part of life–it could be that we are suckers for free entertainment over a strong cup of coffee. Although this weekend was supposed to be about me going on a road trip with my sister-cousin to do a reading in Calgary, it became about so much more. I got in late last night and hit the sheets a little after midnight, then (as my mother would say), I was up with the birds—but I will try really hard to make this make sense for you because it’s a good story.
Storytelling is a notable part of family life. Families share stories that illuminate and combine their separate experiences into a meaningful whole. Families narrate both their best and worst life experiences and in this way pass down a heritage of remembrances from one generation to the next. –Laurel J. Kiser, Barbara Baumgardener and Joyce Dorado
Tell us about the reading, Rach
I’d love to! On the way to Calgary, I stopped in at my mom’s for lunch. She made me a spectacular omelet. My mom recounted a few new episodes from her life—I hadn’t seen her since February, and that little woman loves to talk! I was done my eggs before she’d had a chance to take a bite, so I read her my story so she wouldn’t starve. I warned her about some parts being a little racy so she wouldn’t choke on her lunch. She handled it well. I headed toward my sister-cousin’s to catch up on her life.
Moral support—family and friends
The next morning, my sister-cousin and I continued to downtown Calgary. There was no dead space in the conversation. She has a lot of stories to tell.
Notice it looks like she’s still trying to talk? Examine the twinkle in her eye–that’s her spark. hehe
Are you starting to see a trend in my family yet?
We arrived on scene, had lunch at the most adorable diner with a red door, then headed to Shelf Life Books, where the reading took place. Of course, we were early, so my cousin and I browsed—reminisced and gushed about books. And then the people started pouring in—the teachers who encouraged me to write out of my comfort zone, people I recognized from the tiny pictures in the corner of the class forums, but hadn’t met face-to-face. Some of them, so close they feel like extended family. Behind me, I heard my uncle’s booming voice—and I was surprised to see two of my uncles and an aunt already seated. As the reading started, I spotted two friends I hadn’t seen for twenty years!
Calgarians = Tough nuts to crack
The evening before I left for my road trip, I gathered a few colleagues into my closet-sized office and read them the story and they hooted like the rowdy ladies they are. My prim little mom also laughed without too much blushing. I felt comfortable that the subtle humour is peppered throughout the story would knock Albertan socks off. But the Calgary crowd didn’t even titter once! (I did see a lot of smiles though.) I’ll have to work at it a bit harder–good thing I’m not a comedian.
At least I am laughing at my story 😉
I assume people had to work really hard to contain themselves.
There is a lot more to say, but I haven’t had enough time to process it all.
what I learned from this episode of my life
I am truly blessed with a loving core family and friends.
There is no way I could not have become a storyteller. My whole life, I have been surrounded by storytellers. It was an amazing realization as I listened to my cousins, uncles, aunties, friends and my sweet little mom telling stories. All around me, my family and friends burst at the seams with stories. We reminisce about old times, we share our news in the form of stories with a beginning, middle and end. We exaggerate. We make fun of ourselves even more than we tease one another.
That is our fuel, our GLUE.
In my family, it’s our stories that hold us together
(And by family, I mean blood relatives and friends related by heart)
Because of my storytelling family, I migrate towards people who tell stories. There is something humbling about people who expose themselves through stories—about people who allow themselves to be vulnerable. (I’m not telling about stories told by boastful people—that’s a whole other genre I can’t stomach.) This is how I live—and as a wise colleague pointed out at the start of my writing journey three years ago—I’m always telling stories, and when I tell students stories they sit on the edge of their seats. Thanks to my family’s love of telling good stories, I’ve had a lot of practise both listening to and telling stories. So, thank you to my aunts, uncles, cousins, sibling, and especially my mom, for teaching me how to tell a good tale.
Through story-sharing, you’ve helped me learn about myself. You’ve shaped me and my stories (and my sense of humour).
A toast–and a promise–to future Road trips
I had a long drive home after all of the festivities. I’d been dreading the drive—16 hours to and from—but maybe it was a blessing in disguise. I had a lot of time to focus on how blessed I feel to have been born into the right family. I’ve been blessed by the friends who have come into my lives at just the right time—and those who have remained for seasons since we met. I need to stop taking this for granted. As I was telling my aunt, it’s always been time or money. Right now I have time, so I’d better make it count. All around me, people are suffering from loneliness and a lack of family and friends who fully embrace them. And yet, my cup has always overflowed. It’s time to start sipping at it—gulping it down if I can—because we are not all as lucky.
My family and friends are my fuel. Stories are our glue. There’s no way I’ll come apart or sputter out if I make a little more time to imbibe.
The secret of life:
Happiness = shaping "real life" into stories.
Sharing Stories: Articles/past Posts of interest
For those of you who have young children/grandchildren, this article may be of interest:
When I read this, I realized that I might have done a few things wrong raising my son, but I definitely did this one right:
“Personal stories are very powerful and can pull families together. The listener has a personal connection to these reminiscences. Even just asking ‘do you remember when?’ can trigger images and memories and a deep emotional response.”–Tamsin Kelly
This article is a beauty. The title says it all:
Who Are We, But for the Stories We Tell: Family Stories and Healing