Celebrating Stories
It is usually a busy time of year for me, but this year has been unique. For example, over Labor Day weekend I spent a lot of time driving an automobile. My wife and I moved our oldest child into her college dorm on Friday. The following morning, I drove my mother across the state to visit with some of her family and attend the funeral of her aunt (a special lady in every respect - she will be deeply missed). One trip was full of firsts for me - first child away at college, first encounters with families of her new classmates who were busy moving their kids into the dorm; the other trip was full of more familiar places and visits with family members that I do not get to see regularly. In both trips, however, several things were consistent. There were a lot of memories made. There were a lot of stories shared. There was a great deal of laughter. There were some tears shed. Loss was experienced.
In the midst of the loss, I learned. As I drove my mother through her hometown, she pointed out houses and told me stories of who had lived there when she was a girl. I learned that she had once driven a locomotive, visited a hobo camp with her father, and dreamed of owning a farm nestled in the hills. She told me about frightening moments that she had never shared with others. She cried when she saw that her grandparents’ homes were no longer there and the state of her own childhood home. I met her first crush. I learned a lot about her heart, her dreams, and her struggles. I learned more about who she is, who her parents were, and in those stories I also learned more about who I am. I learned more about my place in the world.
Stories do that. They connect us in ways we cannot fully comprehend. They help us share our common humanity, our dreams, our hopes, our sorrows. Whether the stories are shared in poems, in music, on a stage, or sitting in a car driving down a state highway, stories bring people to life in new ways for us. They connect us to each other and help us find our way together. They teach us that however we are feeling in any moment, others have felt that way too. Stories show us that we can survive, that we can find new ways of being, that we do not have to be afraid. Stories teach us how to grieve, how to rejoice, and how much alike we are. They remind us that we are truly on this journey together.
Most of us don’t spend a lot of time thinking about or sharing our stories. We often do not even realize their importance until we experience a loss. We are sometimes mindless about the stories we tell ourselves everyday about who we are and the world we live in. Celebrating stories is a call to all of us to reconnect, to learn about each other by truly listening, and ultimately to learn about ourselves.
So pull up a chair. Tell me a story, and show me who you really are. In doing that, you help me see more clearly who I really am.
