Both of my grandfathers are excellent storytellers. “Grangran,” my mom’s father, has a wicked sense of humor and can make me laugh until tears roll down my face. Some of his accounts of his childhood are so good I ask to hear them every time I see him. My grandfather Roe has always seemed to tell just the right story at the right time. His stories still help me make decisions and put things in perspective. As they share their past with me, I often struggle to imagine them as the young men in their stories.
Although I always enjoy hearing their tales, I am guilty of times when I think I’m too busy to listen. I have a lot to do. I sigh silently to myself and hope for a pared-down version.
Until this past year, I never realized how invaluable these stories were. In November, my grandpa Roe had a stroke. The man who had once captivated me with memories from his past while we rode in the pickup together was silenced. His mind remained sharp, but the stroke took away his ability to speak. The stories bottled up inside him had no way to be told. I would give anything to rewind time, hear his stories again and ask questions I never had the opportunity to ask.
Check out Derek’s story on page 19 about how he took the time to discover his grandfather’s fascinating past. Maybe it will inspire you go visit your grandparents during fall break. Maybe they too have amazing stories to tell, but they’ve been waiting to be asked.
Take a pen and some paper. Take a tape recorder. Ask lots of questions. Enjoy the opportunity to learn more about your own history.
As author Willa Cather said, “In the course of 20 crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.”
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