The Thanksgiving holiday starts off a season of nostalgia and excitement for me. I look forward to the family gatherings, good food and great conversations.
Who is the best storyteller in your family? Does your family have “those” stories?
The ones that never die out and get requested by various family members over and over again. I’d have to say there are and have been several in my family, but none like Papa- my mom’s dad.
He would tell the same three stories over and over again:
- The one of the man-eating catfish that lived at the bottom of the lake by the dam at Lake Buchanan.
- The Whompas Cats that lived in Lee County Texas where he grew up. He even had sounds effects for them.
- The GIANT bullfrogs, also of Lee County, who started croaking as soon as the sun went down and continued all night. Again, sound effects would accompany this story.
When I was younger, I thought that the stories my grandfather told were silly and fun until I became a know-it-all and ever so tolerant teenager. I remember rolling my eyes and thinking, “OK Papa, wrap it up. We’ve already heard this.” It wasn’t until my adult years, and after he passed away, that I immediately realized the importance of these stories, “silly” as they may be.
I now have my own son and further realize how important those family stories are for his history and also his future. I am who I am because of the stories I heard growing up (make believe and all). Even though they became mundane and repetitive, I learned how to be a decent human being from them because there was always (well, sometimes) a lesson that went along with the story.
My Papa was a genuinely kind, honest and loving man. From him, I learned the same qualities. My dad’s parents, Pop and Mom, were very compassionate, charitable and strong in their faith. I learned what it was to love others from them. Mamo, mom’s mom, was a hard worker; kind but stern. From her I learned it was fine to have fun after chores were done.
I wish I would have taken the time to asked to hear their stories again… and maybe taken the time to write them down. I also wish I cared enough to engage my grandparents in further conversation about their lives before I knew them. Sure, I would get a few snippets here or there but nothing really in depth.
Unfortunately, it was after my Papa’s death (he was the first grandparent to pass) that I realized his stories, the way HE told them, were gone. Because really, who makes a better animal sound, real or fake, than the man who created them?
When I talked to my husband about this, he had an idea. He found a company, yourheritagefilm.com, that will come out and record your loved one telling their stories, their way, with little editing. That way you have a living account of that person in that moment telling their story and interacting with you. How great is that?
Wouldn’t it be nice to press play and watch your kid, or spouse, roll their eyes at someone else’s story/anecdote for a change?
