She wasn’t asking for the traditional “Little Red Riding Hood” or “Princess and the Pea”. The kind of story Mackenzie and Macy were asking for was the kind only very few people besides me can tell them. They wanted a story--or several stories about our family. Some of these stories aren’t really stories at all—not by definition, anyway. But that doesn’t matter to Mack and Macy.
To them, the stories I tell them about their daddy coming face to face with an enormous black snake or going up against an angry llama so I wouldn’t get hurt are as exciting as it gets. They laugh when I tell them about Great-great chasing a baby pig around a parking lot or when I tell them about the time Aunt Olivia and I chased goats along the highway. They love to hear about all the pets their daddy and aunts had growing up and about the many ‘adventures’ we had living on the farm.As I was telling them (for the ??? time) about our dog, CD—who Mack sometimes accidentally refers to as disc—J she asked me, “Nanna, the next time we come to your house, can we make a book to put the stories in?” My answer, in case you have any doubt, was YES!
And wouldn’t you know it…just minutes after Mack’s request, Miranda Lambert’s The House that Built Me started playing on the radio. Coincidence? Most likely, but nevertheless, it tugged at my heart; reminding me of how important it is to share my life’s story with my children and grandchildren.
I want to remind you to do the same, because when we share our life’s stories with our children and grandchildren, we:
· Give them a sense of belonging
· Give them a piece of history…their history
· Build a sense of trust between us and them—when we share our life with them they are more apt to share their life with us
· Allow them to have a more realistic view of who we are
· Allow them to be able to laugh at and learn from the past as well as their own bobbles and mishapsSo go ahead—gather your children and even your grandchildren around you and start talking. It’s as simple as saying, “Once upon a time…”