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Why write your memoir? Why help someone write their life story? I wanted to share this eloquent passage from Diane Setterfield’s “The Thirteenth Tale.”
“People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.”
“The thing about death is that you can’t remember what a person sounded like. You forget all the little things that you once knew. The sound they made when they opened up the front door, the way they walked, the way they laughed.”
Anderson Cooper
The other day, I watched something online so hilarious my left eye closed as I laughed, and I thought of my mother. Her left eye would also close during deep laughter. She passed away over 30 years ago, and while I will obviously never forget her, sometimes these smaller aspects of her fade away. Fortunately, my family has old home movies, and every few years, we’ll get together for a home movie night and I can once again see my mother’s bright smile and gestures that belonged to her alone. Back then, sound wasn’t an option, but her personality shines through nevertheless.
If you were lucky enough to have someone in the family who filmed holidays and other events, those films can be converted onto DVD’s, so you can “revisit” those favorite (and not so favorite) relatives who have passed on or have aged a few decades. Consider sharing these DVD’s as holiday presents this year.
Don’t forget about the future! Videos taken of family events with your camera, smartphone, Pad, Notebook, etc., can be compiled and shared with the family globally.
You also have an opportunity to sit down with your favorite people, and film a one-on-one conversation about his or her life — how obstacles were tackled, funny anecdotes, lessons learned, his or her favorite people, etc.
If a family gathering approaches where a few “old timers” will be present, consider filming them as a group, asking them to share stories about when they were kids. The different personalities will be revealed, and their interaction will provide another layer of insight into your family dynamics.
As this popular vintage photograph montage demonstrates, personalities exist behind formal portraits, so even if you’re taking a formal or quasi-formal group photograph, be sure to take a couple of candid shots of the group being themselves.
That’s a keeper.
“You can’t judge a book by its cover.” But, we do.
It starts in childhood – picking on kids who wear glasses or braces, have a physical/speech/mental handicap, different skin color, weight issues, unique fashion sense, etc.
As adults, even though we should be smarter and more mature, we continue judging others.
In the late 1970’s, Randy Newman’s hit song, “Short People,” was a sarcastic commentary on prejudice. Most people, however, didn’t pick up on the subtle sarcasm, nor did they grasp the lyric’s main point, “All men are brothers until the day they die.” They focused on the insulting lyrics, which they used to ridicule a specific segment of the population. A co-worker, who was 5”1’, found the song extremely offensive. I empathized with her frustration.
I grew up a blonde, blue-eyed California girl. Media and popular movie characters and/or actresses promoted the idea of the “dumb blonde,” which subsequently gave birth to popular dumb blonde jokes. They are offensive to me, because there are individuals who actually believe them. Those who didn’t know me assumed that, because I was blonde, I had nothing intelligent to say or contribute. It’s incredible how many times throughout my life I have had to correct their assumptions, and watch their surprise double take. As a result, I try to make a concerted effort not to judge someone on his or her physical appearance.
The truth is that everyone has been on the receiving end of judgments at some point in their lives. Do they carry a grudge, or become sensitive to others’ pain?
Writing a memoir or biography provides insight into a life journey. It’s an opportunity to explain how such experiences re-shaped perspectives, and to share resulting wisdom.
That shared story needs a book cover design. A picture is worth a thousand words, the adage says, and the photograph chosen for the cover is important. It should reflect or highlight the individual’s core essence or personality, because it provides a visual introduction to the book’s subject matter – either repelling or inviting.
The cover itself can also align itself with the subject matter – dimensions, soft or hardback, board (found in young children’s books), or handcrafted. There was a gentleman who spent his life as a woodcrafter, so his memoir’s book cover was crafted from wood, with the title and design engraved into it.
Ensure your life story book cover showcases your uniqueness, where judgment is not an issue.
What photograph(s) and/or images would best reflect your life thus far?
You Are A Classic
Genealogy is all the rage right now, providing individuals with a sense of identity; a connection to people whose lives may seem more interesting than their own, and offer bragging rights. “I’m related to ….”
A cousin’s research into one side of our family revealed a Swedish Duke who was banned from his kingdom. We’re very proud.
Wouldn’t it be great if you could to speak to one of your ancestors and ask him/her what life was like or why certain decisions were made?
Well, if you don’t record your life story, that’s what your descendants will be asking. Your great-great-great-grandchildren will have no idea who you are. Your favorite grandfather or aunt will be relegated to city and county records. Their life experiences will be forgotten. Their personality traits, the reasons you love him or her will never be known.
You are interesting. Somone you love is interesting. Write, type or tell someone your stories.
The future is listening.
You Are A Classic
Rene Manes was a female version of the neighborhood bully. She was taller than most of us girls, had long blonde hair, pale skin, and was intimidating as hell. A bit of a loner, she kept to herself, except to abuse any poor sap who unwittingly crossed her path.
One summer day, she approached a few of us who were playing marbles, and asked if she could join the game. Stunned, we just looked at her. Rene Manes not only wanted to play with us, but she actually asked permission. Speechless, all we could manage were slow, short nods.
In our school, “steely boulders” were considered the most valuable marble, followed by agates, then purees. Cat-eyes were at the bottom. In this particular game, I won my first steely boulder. I was simultaneously ecstatic and terrified, because the marble, naturally, belonged to Rene. She immediately denied my victory. A bit loony in my joy at having finally won the coveted steely boulder, I actually stood up to her. This resulted in an intensely heated debate, and ended when she shoved me on the ground. The skin of my knee scraped off, I limped home, crying, as blood dripped down my shin.
A couple of days later, my family and my aunt and uncle’s family took a trip to Disneyland. After checking into the hotel room, my mother discovered my knee wound had become infected. As she scraped the puss off, I cried and screamed. My cousin (three years younger than I) watched the painful, grisly procedure through the hotel window, crying and screaming in harmony with me, until her mother carried her off to their room. The scar on my knee remains to this day, a subtle reminder that standing up to a strong personality does not always have a happy ending.
That fall, I had one more encounter with Her.
In my front yard, stood a tall sycamore tree, with a long, fairly straight, horizontal branch. It was about half-a-foot out of my reach, but I could jump up, grab it, pull myself up, drape a leg over it, and swing around it like I did on the monkey bars on the playground.
One afternoon, standing under said branch, I assumed the squatting position to segue into the jump. Rene happened to be walking down the street. I pretended I didn’t see her. Midway through my vertical leap, with deliberation and malice aforethought, she yelled my name, knowing that, in a knee-jerk reaction, I would automatically turn my head in response, lose momentum, and plummet to the ground. I landed on my arm, and watched her continue walking with a smile, as tears rolled down my face.
The doctor told my mother I had a sprained arm, and that I would need to wear a sling until it healed. At school the next day, Manes called me a “faker,” saying there was nothing wrong with my arm. Everyone believed her, so I took it off. When I got home, my mother was not pleased to see me sling-less. The following morning, she watched me walk down the street to ensure I kept it on. Of course, I took it off as I was out of her sight. The arm managed to heal, without physical scarring. To this day, however, when someone doesn’t believe me, I can become somewhat defensive.
Manes’ family moved the following summer, and the streets became safe once again. As I grew in height and age, my self-confidence grew as well. I now stand up for those who are unable to do so, and support the underdogs. However, whenever I find myself standing next to a tall woman, those cell memories shoot up to the surface, and I have to remind myself I am no longer eight years old.
Were you bullied, or were you the bully? How have those experiences affected you?
You Are A Classic
For some people, spending time with family during the holidays does not warm the cockles of their hearts. There are arguments, disputes, old resentments resurface, lives are judged and criticized, etc. There is a way, however, to ease the emotional pain of the holiday season.
Who, in your family, is sincerely cherished by all; someone who is truly respected and held in high regard? Consider giving a tribute to him or her this holiday season. A tribute is something the entire family can be involved in, both separately and together.
When I am hired to put together a personal history, every single person in the family – even the ones who aren’t speaking to anyone – happily donate their time for an interview, because they want to preserve that relative’s memory. They actually move beyond their issues with the family, and focus on the much loved relative. When the book is complete, relatives read about the special memories others have – some unique, some shared – about the same individual, and the fondness they once had for each other rises up above the old grudges and disputes. A healing begins to grow, working its way through each branch and leaf on the family tree.
You have the ability to create a powerful gifted family legacy for future generations.
It begins with one.
Whose life story could you preserve that would reconnect your family?
You Are A Classic