There is an African proverb that says "When an old
man dies…a library burns to the ground."
I was never blessed with a Teller of Stories in my family.
I collected bits and pieces of the more legendary family
tales through the years without ever sitting down to question
the whys..whens…and what fors…from my elders. As I
ease into my senescent years there are so many regrets for
all the unasked questions..the missing puzzle pieces…
the loss of my history. I am lucky enough to have the
family bible (above) with recorded births and deaths
of my Mothers family…but I want the stories…the day to
day living of life goings ons…the silly..the sad..the brave…
the cowardly…I want to know about all the blue highways
on the map to this thing I call…me.
I've waited until the last library has burned to the ground….
I need a do over..
2 comments:
I was lucky enough to live with story tellers. Both my grandparents loved to tell stories, my mom likes to write it all down. I do regret my dad was a quiet one, he wouldn't talk about any of his past. We sit at the dinner table at night and tell stories of our childhood. My daughter writes it down..... It's good to know what is the fabric that makes us who we are. You can still pass on your childhood and your life experience, start new traditions, never too late!
How blessed to have a family of story tellers Tracey. I love that Wesley wants to record her history. I've promised myself that I'll begin recording my memories this coming year….my journaling has always been more about art than writing down my thoughts. MUST DO BETTER!
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