I recently received a forward from my mother-in-law about a family (Duggan Family) who had many brothers and sisters growing up during the Great Depression. http://www.uncommonwisdomdaily.com/standing-on-the-shoulders-of-immigrants-12343#comment-6914 The story of their family was comical, sad, joyful and very real. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed reading their story. Everything from their father having a car given to them to transport their large family, and not having the money to register it (and so they could not drive it,) to that of their dad getting a farm and not knowing how work the farm. The son related that if someone had followed his dad’s method of farming and they did the direct opposite, they would have a good chance at succeeding at becoming a good farmer. I recall one instance when they raised their animals for the family to eat, when it came time to killing them, no one could do it since everyone had grown to attached to each of the animals.
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| My family: Anne, Abby, Will and myself. |
When telling Anne about their story she was amused and very touched by their life story as a family. I mentioned what the author said about the fact that we don’t as a nation tell our family stories to our children and grandchildren anymore. He had said that a great heritage is lost when this happens. Anne responded by saying that in working with young adults today, she hears stories from them about movies and T.V. drama rather than about family. I believe when this happens we lose more than history, we have lost our individual heritage. As a family each of us are formed by what has happened growing up within our individual families. When sharing these stories with our children, we not only pass on our history to them, we also share with them our high points and that of our not so shining aspects of our family as well. These need to be told so that the pride of our past can live on and mistakes are not repeated in the next generation. These are lessons that build and support each of us today.
We as humans are fragile and are prone to making mistakes, but we need to learn to laugh at our weaknesses in order to see ourselves in a realistic light. Weakness’ and strengths are what make who we are and that of our family as well. In education the common phrase today is, “Standing on the shoulders of those that have gone on before us.” Better or for worse, our family is the substance of who we are. When telling these stories, we are given a sense of our identity and the chance to pass that on to the next generation as well. By sharing our family history, we inform, enlighten, and encourage the next generation to be more than what we are, (I believe that to be every parent's desire.)
What is your story? Feel free to leave any family antidotes, or stories of interest in the comments section below that you feel would add to our lives, and make each of us a little richer by knowing something of your family past. I personally would love to hear from each of my readers, no matter what region, state, or country you are from. You do not have convey your name if you do not want to, but please share any family story if you would like. I am sure we all would be encouraged to hear about something from your family, whether it is funny, sad, or even insightful.
Thank you for reading about my family.
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If you desire to leave a message, thought, or response to this post, just hit the "post a comment" link below.
3 comments:
Hello Augie & all, Yes, there are so many stories that are lost when the story teller dies. My Dad & Mom & Grandparents all shared with us--but--I don't remember them--maybe because they were always there to tell them again--how soon it is--before the story teller is gone with the life history. It is very sad. My memory hasn't been great for that gift--I have always valued their stories & wanted them to write them down--then age happens they don't want to write or can't see & I didn't . It is frustrating--but what could a person do--the meals have to be made & people fed & things cleaned up & then you go home & try to squeeze in as much of your own stuff--so the stories don't get written not from lack of wanting--but just the circumstances --frustrating--and yet I believe that is usually the way it is from generation to generation.
Well that's all for now. Take care, Betsy & Donna
Thank you both Donna Friesen and Marji Gustafson for sharing about your families. We are blessed by your stories! August Thurmer
Family stories are an important way to stitch together the many pieces
of a lifetime and attach it to the bigger story of family life.
My mother was an amazing seamstress. My dad was a pastor and my mother
had to really work to stretch his salary but I always got a new dress
for both Easter and Christmas. I would look through magazines and
catalogs and pick out what I wanted and my mom could duplicate the
dress. One year when I was in junior high I chose a rather complicated
Easter dress. It was pink and white checked gingham with three deep
ruffles on the skirt. Because of a busy schedule my mother got a late
start in beginning the dress. On Easter eve it became obvious, even to
me, that the dress would not be complete by morning. I was devastated.
Fortunately, later in life I learned and appreciated what the real
meaning of Easter was but at that time Easter was a new dress. I just
knew Easter was not going to come this year.
In the morning when I woke up the first thing I saw was my gorgeous
pink and white gingham checked dress hanging on the closet door,
pressed and ready to go. It had a white cardigan sweater draped over
the top. The top of the dress was not finished but my clever mother
figured out how to overcome the problem. The sweater covered the
unfinished bodice up just fine. My mother had saved Easter.
By senior high I still enjoyed new holiday dresses but the real
meaning for me was singing in the Christmas and Easter cantatas.
Through music the meaning of Christ's birth, death and his rising from
the dead began to impact my heart and life. But I will always remember
the sacrifices my mother made to make holidays truly memorable and
special for me.
Marji Gustafson
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