Recently, I was having a conversation with my sister-in-law about life, family, where we’ve come from, and where we are headed. We started talking about our past experiences, our families, and the stories our mothers never told us. She shared that she had recently asked her mom, “Why? Why didn’t you share your troubles with me? All the challenges you overcame and the stories I could learn from?” Then she said something profound and spot on: “We all have a story to tell.”
Whether it’s your mother, aunt, cousin, or friend, the women in our lives have stories. Not all of them are bad, and not all of them are happy, but there are lessons in those stories and a history created by sharing. It lessens the burden on one’s soul and helps others learn from your experiences.
I have photo books of our family—every event in our lives, whether it’s the Kaila family adventures, our annual holidays, or major milestones like double-digit birthdays and anniversaries. I want to cherish these memories and share them with my children, and then with their children when we get older. These are the good memories, and many of us (I hope) have some way of keeping them for our future families. Our kids love looking at those books, and they matter. In fact, Shaan, our youngest, recently asked me, “Mom, do you love me less?” I replied, “Of course not, baby! Why do you say that?” He paused for a moment and then said, “Well, you don’t have a picture book for my double-digit birthday, so I was just wondering why.”
Oh my, I had forgotten to make a book of his pictures. But in my defense, it was right before COVID, and the world turned upside down then. Still, I realized how important those memories were to him. So, I spent that night documenting his memories and ordering his book on Shutterfly. It mattered to him, and I wanted him to know his story was worth preserving.
So why don’t we share more? And what about the undocumented memories? Where do we store those? I have a friend who journals every night, writing her thoughts from the day as a lasting memory of her life. I think it helps her process her emotions and stress. By writing it down, she can reconcile the actions and feelings of the day. But those are personal to her, and she doesn’t share them.
Why do we think these memories are better kept to ourselves? Where is the story of your life? Good, bad, or ugly, we all have a story to tell. I’d like to know my mom’s story—or my dad’s. He passed away when I was 16, and I feel like I barely knew him. What was his life like? What were his struggles and joys? So, I’ve decided to start documenting my life. Some of it I already do with these articles, but I want to share my story with my grandkids one day and not forget all the important details.
So, you’re not a writer? Who cares! Use your phone and make audio recordings. But document your life—you lived it. We all have a story to tell, so share it, even if it’s just for yourself.
