Oh, the Stories We Can Tell

Last week, Cecile Christiansen left a comment on the little tour I posted of the Greenwich Village neighborhood I’m leaving for my new home in Portland, Maine:

“I appreciate your looks backwards because they prompt me to look back myself. I've seen things again that I hadn't even remembered that I knew.”

It is gratifying when readers take blog posts as they are intended. In telling some of my stories, in daily entries or the Timeline, the goal (in addition to my just liking to tell stories) is to provoke your own memories, and my hope is that you will tell some of those stories - whether in comments here, on your own blogs or privately within your family.

Humans have been hardwired for storytelling since the days of cavemen. In telling our stories, we pass on our lore, teach our children and preserve our heritage. It also helps bind us together through recognition our commonalities, contributes to the continuity of generations and reminds us that however the daily details of life change, through technology and other means as time passes, our essential humanity and therefore, our connection to one another through the years persists.

More than a year ago, I published a story titled “(Extra)ordinary Lives” prompted by an email from a reader who said she had no stories to tell because her life had been so ordinary.

It is worth repeating, 15 months later, that no lives are ordinary. Everyone of us has hundreds of stories to tell, stories that can teach others, change minds or - simply amuse. Nothin’ wrong with that last one too.

So tell your stories. Make us laugh and make us cry. Let us know what happened, how it was then – 50 years ago and yesterday. Happy, sad, serious and funny. Every story is valuable. Sing of your lives…

Comments

[joared]

I want to tell you a story about a surreal experience I had around noon this past Sat. I heard rather loud aircraft sounds overhead, unusually close by. I thought they must be having an air show at one of two nearby small airports, nothing new, especially on this particular Memorial Day weekend, but these seemed too close.

I felt compelled to rush outside. As I reached our drive, I looked up into a cloudy blue sky to see passing right-to-left of me, directly overhead at one point, ever so low to the ground, the missing man formation. I was overwhelmed with emotion ..... I've never known these jets, to take this flight path before, at such low altitude, in all the years we've lived here.

Perhaps, you should know, my husband of 42 years took me night flying on our first date many years ago.

Perhaps, you should also know, that he passed from this life two weeks ago in his sleep. He is missed.

[Cowtown Pattie]

Joared - What words could I type here, courtesy of Ronni, that would manage to convey my heartfelt sympathies?

Your life story today made me weep and smile. You surely have lost your best friend, and the generosity of sharing it with us is enormous.

Thank you and wishing you an easier tomorrow.

[Claude]

Joared, your story brought tears to my eyes, as I know what you must be going through. Remember and think of the good times flying. You may be sure that these jets taking of at such low altitude didn't do so by chance.

[Chancy]

Joared. Deep sympathy to you on the loss of your husband.

I like to think that his was the spirit behind the "missing man formation" that flew overhead.

Hugs
Chancy

[Lorna]

What a wonderful story your post inspired, even though it was a poignant one. I only write to tell the stories, some of them mine, some collected elsewhere. It's like belonging to a very friendly club that meets in a bar in your neighbourhood. Slainte!