Remembering

Telling Tales

“My life is storytelling. I believe in stories, in their incredible power to keep people alive, to keep the living alive, and the dead.”

Tim O'Brien

When my pastor, Bud, conducts a funeral, he always tells the family and friends to talk about that person; to say their name, to tell their stories and recount your memories of them. He says this is the way to honor them, and to keep them alive in our hearts forever.

Whenever I am in North Carolina with my cousins, we sit around the dinner table and tell tales about those who are not with us any more—our parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles. We laugh and say, “How did we manage to survive that crazy family?” But it's said with affection, humor and even nostalgia. Sometimes, having a “crazy family” is a point of pride. Who on earth doesn't have one?

Our stories are important. They should be told, and even written down. New generations need to learn from whom and where they came, and old generations need to remember and celebrate. I marvel that my grandmother, Mayda, born in 1892, died in 1980, lived from horse and buggy to the space age, through two world wars, the depression and the civil rights era. She had stories to tell, and I have stories to tell about her.

Telling our stories honors those who gave us life, our unique heritage. It is a means of reconciling the past, of claiming our place in the lineage, and acknowledging the role we play in our family's evolution. Through recalling and retelling the stories, we heal our own wounds, and perhaps theirs as well.

                                                              In the Spirit,

                                                                   Jane