We Need More Storytellers

Isn’t it funny how things from your childhood pop up from time to time. I can remember friends and adults telling me, “You better quit your storytelling.” I grew up in a generation where you didn’t use the word “lie,” you were either fibbing or telling stories. Today, I consider myself a necessary storyteller. My medium is narrative poetry and prose. My stories are mostly fiction with real life as a backdrop (aka: representational literature). I tell my own stories and the stories of my ancestors. I tell stories with morals and stories just for shear entertainment, but mostly I tell stories to connect generations. Trials, triumphs, struggle, hard work, hopes, dreams, love, family – these are just a few timeless themes that can reach out and touch members of every generation. In this case, I’m not just talking about the written word, I’m talking about oral storytelling – stories in the midst of conversation. We need more of these kinds of storytellers in our world today.

You don’t have to be an author of books to be a storyteller. Your life is full of experiences and relationships that create a storytelling opportunity. The time you had your first kiss, when you found out you were going to have a brother or sister, what it was like when you moved from your parents’ home or went off to college – these milestones and more are stories waiting for you to tell them. Things we can identify with and learn from can be found in the lives of other people. That’s why so many people love to read memoirs, biographies, autobiographies, historical fiction and to watch documentaries. We are interested in how people made their dreams come true or how they survived a crisis or how they overcame the obstacles of systematic societal phenomenon. We are fascinated by love stories and the work ethic and processes of a visionary. We even live vicariously through the adventures and travels of others. Whether you think of your life as mundane or extraordinary, you have a story to tell that no one else can tell quite like you.

As I talk to teenagers and young adults it always surprises me that they feel like they have to go life alone. As older adults we tend to blame their feelings of despair and detachment on cell phones and social media, but that’s not really the problem. The problem is all of us. We don’t engage in conversations the way generations did before the technology boon. I remember when there was only two ways to find answers: ask somebody or read a book or both. You couldn’t get an answer without a story. Young people are facing some of the same experiences and fears that we all have had. They could benefit from hearing how we conquered our fears. They could be encouraged by the stories of how we had to start again and again before we got it right or how we had to reinvent ourselves to stay current in the industrial age. They could find hope in the fact that we had so little but still accomplish so much with that little. I’m not talking about preaching or even teaching, I’m taking about sharing, investing, and leaving an indelible mark. Youngsters, teens, and young adults are a ready audience for your stories.

While we have an open audience for our stories, we can also be an audience for the stories of others. I spend a lot of time with people older than me. In fact, that’s part of the story of my life, I have always been around people much older than myself. Years ago, and today I learn so much from the older generation. Innumerable stories about the Great Depression, the First Pandemic, moving from the South to the North, domestic jobs, civil rights activism, faith, answered prayers, living among the famous, surviving wars, and so much more have been shared with me. Fascinating tales of trials and victories, love and family, death and hatred that I have not experienced except for someone being willing to share their story with me. Older adults love to talk about the “good ole or bad ole days.” Many of them are from the generation when conversation was the normal way of life. Conversation was the medium for obtaining news because everyone didn’t have radio or TV. Some of them could catch up on the party line (old fashion telephone network when several people shared the same line), or in the church yard, or the quilting bee, or the fields during harvest, or at the civic meetings held in the schoolhouse. They shared everything from obituaries to new births by talking to each other. Almost everything in the community traveled by word of mouth, and they haven’t forgotten a single word. Trust me, there are stories you need to hear from the senior adults in and around your life. Listening can bring joy to the teller and the listener.

Long ago, I ignored those persons who told me to stop telling stories. I don’t want to stop. I want to continue telling stories and listening stories. Stories make you laugh, cry, reflect, dream, remember and imagine. Stories help you empathize and sympathize with the life journey of others. Stories can bring healing and understanding as well as open up new avenues of knowledge for the listener. Stories form a union between the teller and hearer, an intimate bond over a shared experience. Stories are our legacy – the part of us that will live on after our transition to the world beyond. The world needs more storytellers. Are you willing to share your stories? Do you have an audience just waiting for you to begin the small tales and the large volumes of your life’s journey? Have you been privy to stories you can retell so that the legacy of the original storyteller live on? I’d love to hear from you. Tell me your story.

“Storytelling is important. Part of human continuity.” – Robert Redford

An Indelible Mark

During a recent author talk, I found myself talking about the investment that my ancestors made in my life. Because they allowed me to be curious and took the time to answer my incessant questions, they each contributed to the person I am and am becoming. The husky laugh of my great grandfather, the supernatural patience of my great grandmother, the academic prodding of my grandmother, the fervent prayers of my mother, the proud recitations of my great uncle – all these things and much more have left an indelible mark on my life and my worldview. This seems like the way it should be – each generation leaving their mark on the next. So, I ask myself, what kind of mark am I leaving. Am I truly investing my life wisely, practically, and usefully in the generations around me?

At that same author talk, one of the parents of a student I taught in preschool and prekindergarten many years ago was present. Her daughter is now in college and has become quite the young lady. Her mom thanked me for laying the foundation for her daughter’s academic success. I couldn’t help but wonder if her daughter felt the same. Would she remember me the way I remember her. She was a bright and curious child, eager to please and filled with love and laughter. Beyond the academics, we laughed and danced, sang and read, and used the scientific method to investigate everything. She was one of many groups of children that have crossed my path as an educator and caregiver. I can only hope my methods left a positive impact on their young lives.

Not too long ago, I went into a bank to make a deposit for my mom. She and I stood in the line for several minutes before being called to a window. The young man at the window greeted us both by name before we presented any documentation. He said, “You don’t remember me, do you?” I had to admit I did not, nor did my mom. He introduced himself and told us he remembered us from a summer camp experience when he was in elementary school. He and his sister attended the program two years in a row. I ran the summer camp, and my mother ran the cafeteria program. He said, “Those were the best summers of our lives. I will never forget the field trips, the science experiments, and the kick ball games as long as I live. I wish y’all were still around for my kids.” Wow! I stood there proud and amazed. The summer camp and all its employees had left an indelible mark on this young man’s life.

I had a similar experience at Wal-Mart. This time there were two young men. One was a customer and the other a cashier. The customer said, “Aren’t you Ms. Wilson?” I hesitantly said yes. Then he said to the cashier, I told you so. I said, “You have me at a disadvantage who are you?” The customer started singing, O Holy Night. I laughed. During the years, when I worked for Will-Mariah Christian School he had sang O Holy Night for several of our Christmas programs. He was the older brother of one of our students. The cashier said you probably don’t know me, but you taught my little brother, and he told me his name. Little B (I’m withholding names because I didn’t get permission to use them. B was not his real name.) was hyperactive and very bright. He ran the teachers ragged and was sent to my office on a regular basis, but I never gave up on him. “OMG,” I said, “How is he, how’s your mom?” “He’s doing well, better than me. He joined the military and is stationed in N. Carolina. Mom is good. I can’t wait to tell her I saw you.” I not sure what kind of impact our school and staff had on these two siblings of our students, but apparently something touched them and stuck out in their minds; something that they had not forgotten over the years.

Each of us have an opportunity to leave an indelible mark. It doesn’t have to be academic in nature. It can be an act of kindness or sharing a story, a bit of food, or finances. It can be conversations or visits to a nursing home or children’s ward at a hospital. Encouraging words and expressions of faith in someone’s ability may be just the thing to make a marked and positive impact in someone’s life. Being a source of comfort or inquiry – a safe place for questions to be asked or secrets to be shared can leave an indelible mark which can be passed on to others by your example. It’s all about taking the time to invest your life in the lives of others – your time, talent, and treasure. (https://bene-log.com/2020/01/16/personal-investments/) It’s all about letting people know they are worth it. It’s about giving the gift of presence and wanting the best for others. (https://bene-log.com/2023/12/28/its-not-too-late-to-give-the-gift-of-presence/) Like all good things this can start at home and spread abroad.

What kind of mark are you leaving on your children, your grandchildren, your nieces and nephews? What if the only marks being left are negative and ugly – the marks of the world around them, rather than the marks of those who love them? Do we really want the marks that cannot be removed, erased, or forgotten to be all negative? I certainly don’t. I may not be able to stop those who choose to be the devil’s advocate, but I can certainly do my part to leave a legacy of positive impact. That’s what Bene-Log is all about – leaving a good word wherever I can.

Here’s a quote to live by: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” – John Wesley

Now that’s a good word! PEACE!

My mom and I

No Regrets

Today I received a survey from my undergraduate alma mater. It asked questions about the foundations taught there and whether they helped me in life today. At first, I thought that was so long ago, I have no idea; but, to my surprise I remember a lot. My experience had been great and challenging. I remember my professors and classmates. Indeed I learned a lot that I still use today. I learned how to do research, write nonfiction essays and public speaking. I also learned other skills such as keeping a budget and utilizing my time wisely. There was so much more to my college experience than academics. The final survey question was: “Would you choose this college again, if you had the choice today?” I answered absolutely. I have no regrets. I would recommend that my college to anyone. (The Master’s University in California)

Wouldn’t it be great if we could say we don’t have any regrets at all? Unfortunately, regret seems to be a part of life. Whether it’s due to difficulties in relationships, poor career choices, personal habits, or failure to move when the opportunity presented itself, we all have some regret. The bigger question is, what have we learned? Have we grown, remained the same, or degenerated. I certainly hope I’ve grown; I try to live with no regrets.

As some of you know, I have been a care provider for many years. It began with my grandchildren and eventually included my grandmother and my mother-in-law. My husband and I have been a part of “The Sandwich Generation.” That’s when you are sandwiched between generations as a care provider. We had our grandchildren and our parents to take care of on a daily basis making us the middle of the sandwich. While everyday was not an easy day, we tried to make sure everyone felt loved and seen. We worked hard to offer the best quality of life that was possible for our infirmed elders and for our growing adolescents. We never let wheelchairs or highchairs stop us from laughing with or loving our family. The blessing in that is now we can look back with no regrets.

I have shared things about my relationship with my mom in the past. Eventually, the whole story will come out. (lol) Today, I just want to share one incident. When I was in my late twenty’s my mother came to visit me in Arizona. It was the first time we spent time together in a number of years. She still lived in Ohio. At any rate, as we were standing in the airport for her departure, I heard a voice clearly say, “You need to make amends because you will have to take care of her someday.” Well, to some degree that seemed obvious, after all I am an only child, but for some reason this message seemed to hold a deeper meaning. I cried, I prayed, and I tried to define the kind of care my mother would need so I could be prepared. As you well know, there are some things you just can plan for. Since I don’t want to get off track from the topic at hand, I’ll just bullet point some live events:

  • Mom’s dad, my grandfather, had a paralyzing stroke
  • Her mom, my grandmother, was losing her sight to glaucoma
  • Mom experienced a double home invasion
  • We moved all of them to Georgia (my mom, grandmother and grandfather)
  • My grandfather died in a nursing home
  • My grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease

The day came when I knew my mom was in over her head. The stress of driving twenty miles to see my grandfather in his nursing home and taking care of my grandmother who was oppositional was taking its toll on her health. I realized if I didn’t step in, I was going to lose my mother too. My grandfather and grandmother were lost to me because Alzheimer’s had taken them away. I couldn’t stand by and let stress and exhaustion take my mother away. I needed to take care of her. The simplest way was to move her and my grandmother in with us. So, we sold our house (the house I loved) and she sold her house (the house she loved), and we bought the monstrosity we now live in. The grandchildren brought new life to my mom. She loved taking care of the baby while I dealt with my grandmother,

Maybe I’ll tell the rest of this story in the future. The point is, my mom and I have no regrets. We each took care of our loved ones to the best of our ability. We made decisions with their best interest in mine. The sacrifices we made allowed all of us to have a better quality of life. Now we live with the satisfaction that nothing was left undone or unsaid. There is no “wish I would have”, or “we should have”, or “if we could do that over” drama in our lives. We capitalized on giving everyone what they needed and some of what they wanted while giving ourselves permission to human. We ate cake, took vacations, celebrated holidays and holy days, ran a business, and nurtured our souls. It wasn’t easy, but it was living with laughter and love. I can honestly answer the survey question; I would do it all again.

The times I’ve had with my mom as an adult outweigh the hard times of my childhood. We’ve had so many wonderful trips and taking so many great pictures together, but more importantly we have survived many hardships together. At ninety-three she is slowing down. Dementia is knocking at the door. Mobility was modified by a stoke this past December. Still we’re taking a trip in July and looking forward to making more fond memories. We’re still too busy living to have regrets. I can tell you, I’m so thankful for that voice telling me I would have to take care of my mom. The reality is we take care of each other.

While I was working on this blog, I dreamed about death one night. I woke up thinking how regrets torment people when a loved one dies, and death can come at any time. Things left unsaid, unresolved conflict, or a wish that things had been different lead to regret. We have a chance to change all that while everyone is alive and breathing. Express love, forgive, find closure, do a good deed, extinguish your pride and live without remorse. That’s one less burden you have to carry. It’s just another game of “Show and Tell.” “Live, Love, Laugh” can be done, it’s a personal choice.

Mom and I enjoying our vacation