Open Up the Vault

Family Stories

“Growing apart doesn't change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. For that I am glad.”

Ally Condie (Matched)

The Old Crazy Town stories have been retrieved from the cellar of my computer, dusted off, and I'm trying once again to allow memories to bubble up. Childhood stories are always a mixed bag, depending upon how you grew up, where, with whom. Who loved you, who took care of you, who made your life miserable—and that's only within your family. All families have bombshells blowing up in them at certain times along the way: finding out there's been an affair, there's a terrible accident, a parent or sibling comes out of the closet, a child begins using drugs, someone commits suicide. Every family, regardless of where they live, or their stature in the community, has skeletons in their closet. Southern families, on the other hand, may as well live in Ezekiel's valley of dry bones! Too many skeletons to count. Maybe it's the sweltering heat. Who knows.

The fact is, it all comes out in the end. When we enter the reminiscing phase because most of our life is behind us, all the stories, even the bad and sad ones, are dear to our hearts. If we've done our work, psychologically speaking, and integrated the painful ones, we can look at them differently—with some love and forgiveness. Then, these crazy people and events become truly good stories, and just like a jigsaw puzzle, pieces of us start to fit together. The most destructive part of “skeleton families” is secrecy. The admonishment not to talk about it, which in essence is “don't acknowledge this, or something terrible with happen” is not true. Your memories, whether factual or not, belong to you. They are your story. If we take a step back from them and think of them as stories, then there's every possibility of rising above the emotion, and dealing with them creatively.

Think of the best novel you've ever read. The characters you found most riveting were not the saintly ones, right? They led messy lives. They had shadows that from time to time overtook their light. They were not one-dimensional, but had many layers of complexity. That's you. That's your family. That's everyone's family. There's no outrunning it, and one shouldn't even try. The way to bring wholeness to oneself and ones family is, instead, to call it by name, and to realize it's all part of the story that is you. You would not be who you are now, if your life had been different then. We all have tangled roots, and that's a good thing.

                                                        In the Spirit,

                                                            Jane