Story Telling Remembered

Families are funny aren't they?  And yet, it's not necessarily what those in a family do on a day to day basis which makes them comical, it's the highlights.  We all have those special stories when sitting down at a holiday dinner that seem to pop up, year after year.  Stories from the past we've all heard over and over and love to hear again and again.  You know the ones, often the stories are requested.  "Remember that story grandpa told us about putting that frog in great grandma's toilet?"   "Come on mom, tell us again about Uncle George's, "Grand Adventure!" 

Of course there are some stories families might never share outside of the dinner circle.  It's an "inside joke," isn't it?  Also, there are always those, "I guess you had to be there," type stories as well.  Because unless you know, Uncle George's personality, you just can't appreciate how funny the story truly is.  There again lies the, "Inside joke."  Aren't those the best kinds of Jokes?   I remember leaning in, head resting in my hands, elbows on the table, now that dinner is over and I'm happy!  And why?   Because dessert is yet to come and it's story time!  Sitting around the dinner table listening and laughing at the stupid things that families are allowed to do.

We all have them and aren't we lucky.  I remember as a kid, loving to hear stories from my parent's childhood and youth.  My dad shared great stories as did my mom.  I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.  Today it's happening with my children.  Some of the best stories we find, are not in the books from the bookstore but in stories of the past.  Sure they love stories out of books but they especially love stories about me from my childhood.  It is quite fun to relive the past and frequently I find myself retelling stories about my parent's childhood days. For example, my children love to hear about grandma's poodle skirt days with the black and white saddle shoes she wore.  Her hair tied in a pony tail, with a ribbon tied into a perfect bow.  Stories about grandpa running for the bus after school, in order to make it to the golf course.  The bus driver would hold the bus, knowing this kid, my dad, would be coming full sprint and he was!  Stories and stories of the past somehow become thrilling, don't they? 

Some times, I must admit, I am moved to tears over those past stories and the remembrance of the ones who told them.  Story telling, delivery, the punch line, the exciting conclusion and the unbelievable endings.  Some of those who told me the stories have passed on now and I am left with the memory of their voice, their laughter, and their joy in telling the story.  I often try to dissect life in order to better understand the way it has been designed.  I often wonder why the design had to be the way it is.  If only we didn't have to age to a point of possible internal ruin.  If only we could live an eternal existence on an ever growing beautiful planet that could hold the forever growing abundance of life.  I would never have had to say goodbye to my grandma's and grandpa's.  My, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles.  My step-mom and my mother-in-law and friends who left us far to early.  I must say, I have not resolved anything in my mind on the subject, other than to say, "the whole thing stinks."  Yet, I am left with the memories and I can't tell you how grateful I am for those.

Let's revert back to the silliness of stories.  The, "inside joke" if you will.   I remember as a kid, sitting at the dinner table at my grandma's house.  My mother's mother.  My grandma would be preparing a big family meal, rushing about the kitchen and I would sit at the table and watch as she and my mother brought everything together.  I enjoyed their conversations and the little things they were sharing.  My grandma and grandpa, as I've mentioned in past blog entries were very funny, so if grandpa came in the room and started messing things up, butting in, stirring this, tasting that, unplugging this, plugging in that, basically making havoc in the kitchen, my grandma would place her thumb on the end of her nose and with the other four fingers pointing up, she would begin to wiggle them at my grandpa.  She used to say, "Take that Ralph, take that!"  My grandma was giving him a, "Whammy."  Sometimes she would do this with one hand stacked against the next hand and wiggling all eight fingers, giving him the, "double-whammy!"  I would sit there, silently giggling under my breath.  As my grandpa would walk out, heading back towards his chair in the living room to watch the television with my uncle's, my sister and my dad, grandma would say to my mom, "He can be such a p-i-t-a!"  I didn't know what that meant the first time I heard it, later when I asked my mom what, "p-i-t-a" meant, she leaned down and whispered in my ear, "pain-in-the-ass!"  From then on, when grandma would say that word under her breath, or directly to him, I would shake my head and secretly laugh within myself. 

I believe it is healthy to reminisce about the funny things in life, even if the laughter is at the expense of another.  It keeps the past alive, it keeps those we love, living.   It brings back that warm feeling into our hearts which renews our joy. 

I hope you have a fabulous, last week of April.  April a beautiful name, given to a lovely month.   

Always sending cheer and love, with good tidings your way.
Sarah.