We’ve all been at the family dinner table when an elder launches into THAT story-the one that gets dragged out every holiday and several times in between.
Often our eyes roll and we exchange knowing glances with the younger set as if to say, “Here we go again!”
But we point our faces toward the speaker, lean in and lap it up.
Because we know this story is important to her or else she wouldn’t be sharing it again.
You learn a lot about your parents and grandparents, older aunts and uncles by listening carefully to the stories that have stuck around in a head that finds it hard to remember what the body had for breakfast.
Some of the stories are wonderful. Sweet, sweet memories of special times and special friends; of younger years and youthful dreams.
Some of the stories are tragic. The baby brother or sister who only lived a few days or months. The mother that died too soon because there were no drugs to treat a common condition. The friend that never came home from the war.
The stories are windows into souls.
Some of us have stories that need telling NOW. We can’t wait until our age guarantees us a captive audience.
Because telling the stories helps our hearts.
A fellow bereaved mom who has a gift for finding exquisite quotes found this one:
Sometimes I think that if it were possible to tell a story often enough to make the hurt ease up, to make the words slide down my arms and away from me like water, I would tell that story a thousand times.
~Anita Shreve, The Weight of Water
Every time I tell the story of Dominic, it helps to keep him real.
It reminds my heart that he lived, that he mattered, that he matters still.
And in the telling, I am giving away a little bit of him for another heart to carry. His light is passed to another soul that can pass it to another and another.
It doesn’t really take away the hurt and sorrow, but it does help me bear it.
So if I launch into the same old rendition of my favorite memories of my missing son, bear with me.
Be a witness.
Help me carry the burden.
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thelifeididntchoose 
It was about a month after our 19 year old son ran ahead that I started asking friends and family to contribute stories towards a book I plan to publish about his life. It’s now eight and a half months since he died and I am well on my way to collate these beautiful memories in telling his story. My main motivation was to ensure there was a record of his life kept in this world. He was only our child and also my parents only grandchild. There’s no more generations left to pass the memories onto. He was everything to us and like you mentioned, sharing his story with others helps to keep his memory alive and remind people that he mattered.
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What a beautiful way to honor your son! I’m so very sorry for your pain and your loss. May the Lord meet you every morning with grace and strength for that day. May He continue to encourage those who love your son to gather and share memories to put in your book. ❤
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Beautiful thought! Your dear son will be remembered with love. God bless you and I am so sorry for your loss.
Mary Ciammetti
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Changing my blog name is a start for Luke’s story…yes it is the energy and effort which makes it so daunting.
Thank you once again for your kindness Melaine ❤
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In view of the way in which Luke died I find that friends of his who I have not met are very reticent about contacting me. Oh but when they do…the stories they share are wonderful xxx
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I’m so sorry. I try always to give folks the benefit of the doubt as you obviously do as well. But we are starving for details about our missing child that others may hold. Sending love and hugs. ❤️
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I couldn’t have put it better Melaine.
I think I mentioned at one point that it was my intention over the summer to start a journal speaking to Luke. I am finding it very difficult and have only made two entries. I also keep promising myself I will write his story down for him but still can’t face the heartache it will bring.
I had to do in for the police for the coroner’s office shortly afterwards and although I went into great detail, they only precise it. It seems much harder this time around 💔
I’m sorry I burden your already heavy heart x
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Do not be sorry for sharing your heart with others. That’s how we manage to make it in this long journey. I hope that one day, when you are ready, you write your son’s story. It is a daunting task and one that will take so much energy and effort. But it will be a beautiful testimony. ❤
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Beautiful writing 💕
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