We Should Tell Our Family Stories

My Great Uncle Albert

An Environmentalist to His Heart

One of my greatest regrets is not getting the stories from my Aunt Ollie. She was an incredibly gifted singer and what was really great about her is that she knew everything about the family. Being the oldest child of my grandmother she would tell a story with my mother, bringing her up-to-date on what was happening, remembering some family anecdote and the laughter was contagious. Even though I heard a plethora of stories while growing up, I didn't take the time to keep them in my heart and mind. There are gaps and when I ask my aunt and uncle (still living), they either don't remember a particular story, or didn't ever hear it. So, today, as I add another birthday to my life, this is about getting our family stories. Good. Bad. Silly. Funny. Sad. Joyful. You need to get these stories and find a way to share them with other family members.

     Here's the other thing I know. I'm not going to be here forever. Not that I want to be here forever. Got give room to those that come after me, but I do want to leave them with something. I'm a storyteller and I never tire of telling stories. But, unfortunately a lot of the stories I tell are not my family stories and guess what, I'm missing a lot of good stories to share. Like the time my grandmother admonished my cousins and I to leave the painters alone while they painted her upstairs apartment. We had been running up and down the stairs. The apartment seemed like a playhouse with the furniture covered or gone. The halls and rooms echoed in ways that were thrilling to our child's mind. Still, my grandmother, Mother we called her, said we had to stop pestering the painters and let them do their work. Basically, we were good kids, but it was too tempting once she left to go the store.

     Come on, my cousin Michael extolled. Mother won't be back for while. Let's just go and look.

     But grandmother said ... I started to explain and was quickly silenced.

     You a baby? my cousin Mary Adell asked.

     So, up the stairs I trudged with my cousins. However, while they peeked in closets and asked the painters a million questions, I silently stood and looked out the back window. Grandmother had told us not to be upstairs. I admit it. I was scared. Lost in my thoughts, however, I had stopped watching and as I looked out the window, I saw my grandmother coming briskly across the courtyard of the apartment complex. I looked around for my cousins, but they were in other rooms and if I yelled out to them, well ... I didn't and scooted down the stairs. When the screen door slammed, Michael, Fred and Mary Adell looked like a routine from the three stooges as they bumped into each other as they headed down to the bottom of the stairs.

     BUSTED!

     Where was I? Sitting on the couch, my head in a book. Needless to say, they got it. Grandmother spanked them all soundly and sat them on the couch, where snuffling and sniffling, they cast baled eyes in my direction. They were gonna kill me when they got me alone, I knew, but I'd rather suffer their wrath than Miss Elaine's.

     I will always remember my grandmother's words. P.K., now don't lie and tell me you weren't up there, too, she said knowingly. But, I'm here to tell you that if you do anything else that you're not supposed to do, I'm going to whip you for that and this. Then she headed into the kitchen, where she excelled, by the way, and fixed us lunch.

     That's a story worth telling. We do, but when I die, will any of the young people know that story or understand the ramifications of not minding your elders? I don't think so. So, I went to Oroville, California last week and took my little camera to get a couple of stories about my uncle. This story is about the work he is doing. He, after retiring from the service of teaching, wants gardens throughout the community. People gotta eat he tells me and he's right. But, it is more than that. There is still time to get his story and to remember it. With technology today, anyone who is not sharing their family stories is limiting their family legacies. Go and get one of those stories today.

     This is real peace.