I was recently reminded of the power of our stories. The power of sharing our own experiences with those around us - with those we love.
It was a Saturday afternoon. My cousin and I were sitting at my parent's kitchen table listening to my Grandpa. I don't know how things got started. But I know I stayed because of the story my Grandpa was telling.
For the next while, my cousin and I listened and asked a few questions, while my Grandpa shared a portion of his life story with us. Some of it I had heard before, but much of it I had not.
There's something different about listening to someone tell their own story. About hearing it from their perspective. Possibly even more so when it's someone you know and love telling the story.
I walked away from that conversation with a precious memory. Time with Grandpa is likely not going to happen for too many years more. So I will embrace the times I get to do that.
It reminded me of another precious memory from my teenage years. We were at my great-grandparents wedding anniversary. Towards the end of the party, I found myself at a table with old photo albums with my Grandma and my Great-Grandpa. My Great-Grandpa was sharing his memories of where and why the picture was taken and who the people were. I didn't know at the time that only a couple months later I would be back at my Great-Grandpa's funeral.
But, I've never forgotten that time. Hearing the story of my Great-Grandpa's life.
There's power in sharing our stories with others. There's meaning in those times where we learn about what life was like for those we know and care about.
So, what is your story?
And who are you sharing it with?