A to Z Challenge 2020 – U is for Untold Stories

U is for Untold Stories

There’s a folktale from India that is called “A Story and A Song”. It tells about a wife that has a story and a song inside her and never shares them with anyone. Feeling trapped inside her, they abandon her and in doing so cause a misunderstanding with her husband, thinking she has been unfaithful. In anger, he leaves her. When he finds out the truth, he comes home, apologizes, and asks her to share the story and song. But, of course, she has no story or song to share for they have left her. Here is a link, if you want to read the story: http://anilmenon.com/blog/a-perfect-tale/

The story got me thinking of all the untold stories that we hold within us. 

I grew up without any grandparents; they had all passed away before I was born. My parents, aunts, and uncles rarely shared any stories with me about their youth or family or what it was like to grow up in Germany as Jews in the 1920s and 30s. When I was 31 years old in 1981 as I was starting to get into storytelling, I decided to record an interview with my mother and father to share with me some stories of their childhood and when they came to America and met each other. Unfortunately, my father had just had a stroke, and getting information from him was difficult. My mother was more helpful, but even so, there were so many more stories that I could have had had I encouraged her a lot earlier. My father died the following year, my mother 16 years later. So much information about my heritage was lost with them. 

We need to share more stories with our children and others. I know for my parents it might have been difficult for them to share considering the time they grew up in; but it would certainly have given me a better understanding of where I came from and the history of the times, more so than I might have gotten from a history text. It is also part of who I am. I was quite pleased the other day when my son had to interview me for a history class he was taking. I hope we do that a lot more often. 

Storytelling was not a staple in my family growing up. I don’t remember being read to. The only memories I have, faulty as they may be, are ones I experienced myself. I sometimes ask my sisters, if they remember certain things we did as kids, but even those specifics are fading. Of course, being a storyteller allows me to embellish those faded memories, which keeps parts of them alive. 

My mission for you, should you accept it, is to release those stories that you hold within. Share them with your children, your family, and others. It is said that a person is truly not dead, whilst his name and story are still spoken. Don’t let your untold stories and the legacy of who you are end with you.