“I wish I knew”

A recent article in The Wall Street Journal, “The Questions You Wish You Had Asked Your Parents,” cites a growing interest in people wanting to know more of their family stories.

The uptick in awareness of story preservation is attributed to the rise in home DNA kits, the popularity of family history via sites such as Ancestry, and the younger generation’s comfort level with documenting every aspect of their lives: “Younger people are more transparent and used to telling the story of their own lives, often online for many to see, and expect it from others,” writes Clare Ansberry.

This recent article in The Wall Street Journal indicates that more and more families are realizing the value of preserving their stories.

All of this is no doubt accurate, and I do find millennials in particular curious about their parents’ lives before parenthood and even nostalgic about their own childhoods.

But I would argue that this interest in our collective family history is nothing new—at least, not when talking about family history in terms of stories.

While finding distant DNA cousins is indeed new, wanting to know more about our parents’ lives is not. Unfortunately, all too often people don’t recognize that desire until it’s too late.

I’ve written before about how it may seem like your grown kids don’t care about learning about your life—but that in fact, they merely don’t care to pay attention just yet. And that’s the key here: We either need to get the younger generations to realize the urgency in capturing their elders’ stories, or convince the older generations that not only do their stories matter, but that they will be treasured by their family when they are gone.

Is story preservation a new trend?

The message of that WSJ article is that, apparently, both of these things are happening—changes are afoot that are opening our eyes to the need—and value and desire—for documenting our family stories.

I hope this is the case. I know personal historians such as myself and those quoted in the article are making every effort to spread the word and stress the importance of preserving our legacies.

I’m not convinced, though, that enough people are on board.

I hope that more and more people begin to see the value in asking their parents about their lives before parenthood.

I hope that more and more people realize that now is the time to begin asking—not later, not when it’s more convenient or they’re less busy.

I hope that more and more family elders acknowledge that their lives have been interesting, that the paths they have taken hold lessons for the next generation, and that their stories matter.

Most of all, I hope that you FEEL the urgency and take the first step toward preserving your family’s stories for posterity.

Avoid having to say, “I wish I knew.”

If you’re a DIY’er, consider writing about your life or interviewing your family members.

If you would like to explore how working with a personal historian can make the process easier and yield a more professional product, please reach out to chat.

What I know: I still hear from far too many people about the regrets they have: not asking their parents about their lives until it is too late; until dementia has crept in, or their parents have passed.

It is my mission to help people have no regrets. Won’t you join me in this mission?

Two New Year’s resolutions worth making—and keeping

I have never been big on New Year’s resolutions.

For starters, I still regard September, not January, as signaling a “new year”; the turning leaves and crisp fall winds usher in thoughts of back-to-school shopping and beginning anew.

Beyond that, self-discipline is not among my most laudable traits.

Nonetheless, I am surrounded by friends and family resolving to eat better, run faster, work harder, love stronger…you get the idea. When is the last time your own resolution lasted long enough to become an ingrained habit?

I’m not suggesting that you ignore your instincts to better yourself through New Year’s resolutions—on the contrary, I wish you luck and stick-with-it-ness!

And, I put forth suggestions for two resolutions that will be EASY to keep, and bring you JOY. Let me know if you’re in!

resolution no. 1

Digitize 10 old photos.

Maybe it’ll become the start of a bigger project, maybe it won’t. But the undertaking

• of choosing 10 photos from a larger stash,

• of visiting with the memories they stir up,

• and of being able to easily share those images with loved ones—whether on social media, via prints you frame for them, on a family history website, or during in-person conversations (see below)—

is enough to bring you joy (!!), and to make the tiniest dent in your family history preservation efforts.

resolution no. 2

Have meaningful conversations.

This one is important to me.

When is the last time you used your phone for something other than a quick text to communicate?

When is the last time you dropped by a friend’s house unannounced? (Did you cringe at the mere thought?!)

How about welcoming one of your parents over ungrudgingly—not to watch the kids or do your familial duty, but to visit without agenda or time limit? To chat over a cup of tea, to have extended conversation around the dinner table well into the evening, or to learn their recipes in person, in action?

I am the first to fall into the trap of “busy-ness.” I often regret not calling my family members more, or wish I had more time to meet up with friends, sans kids.

But, as Debbie Millman says, busy is a decision. “Simply put: You don’t find the time to do something; you make the time to do things.”

So let’s both resolve to make more time for real conversation, shall we? To share our thoughts and stories, and to listen, generously, to those of our friends and loved ones—maybe even to someone new you meet at the library.

Let’s connect!

Most thoughtful holiday host gift

My go-to host gift for dinner parties is a nice bottle of wine, something to be enjoyed communally around the table, hopefully over interesting conversation. I admit, though, it’s not the most original of ideas.

These days I upped my giving game, and I invite you to do the same: This A Taste of the Past recipe card set pairs nicely with that bottle of burgundy!

Introducing…

A Taste of the Past recipe card set

I cherish the few recipe cards I have in my mother’s and grandmother’s handwriting. The grease stains add a patina of love, and the crossed-out changes (organic butter instead of margarine?) tell a story of time passing.

But what if they could tell a fuller story? What if the waves of nostalgia that wash over you when you smell Nonna’s Sunday sauce simmering on the stove could be preserved, too?

Well, of course, those precious food memories can be preserved—and this unique recipe card set allows you to do so right alongside your recipes.

This recipe card set encourages you to tell the tales of your food memories and to record your family’s favorite recipes in the very same place, essentially creating a living heirloom that can be passed on and enjoyed for generations.

The cards, which when folded measure 4x6 inches and fit in most standard recipe boxes, include one side on which to write a dish’s ingredients and preparation instructions, and a reverse side for you to record memories associated with the dish. Is it a traditional holiday meal that your family has cooked for decades? Is it a new twist on a childhood favorite?

This family history themed recipe card set is the perfect place to record Mommy’s foolproof tahdig secret (patience!), Grandpa’s grilling guidance, and your own generation’s current favorites.

Included…

Bonus tips & ideas for capturing food memories

In addition to the recipe/memory cards, there are four bonus pages of easy tips and tricks for

• getting your family members involved in recording recipes and family stories,

• what types of dishes and memories to include, and

• how to most effectively encapsulate your stories in written form.

there’s still time…

Thanksgiving delivery within reach!

If you’re in the Northern New Jersey area, I'd love to meet you to hand-deliver a set of these cards (and hear how you plan to use them!!)—DM me on Instagram or send me a quick note!!

For everyone else, the recipe card set is available for shipping now, and I’ve made sure to launch the product just in time for Thanksgiving gifting (they make a thoughtful stocking stuffer in December, too!). Click the image below for full product details, or add it to you cart directly.

Quick View

A Taste of the Past - Family Recipe Card Set

$30.00

Our recipe card set goes above and beyond capturing ingredients and cooking instructions for your family’s favorite foods. Open the cards to reveal space to record your memories of these foods!

Is it a recipe handed down through generations on your mom’s side? Was it your child’s go-to meal as a toddler? Does the smell remind you of Thanksgivings past, Nanna’s kitchen, or early memories in a special home?

Preserve your family recipes and all the precious stories they call forth.

Purchase

I can’t wait to see the memories and family recipes you capture on these cards—I hope you will share!!

The spirit of scrapbooking, elevated

When I was a kid I kept a scrapbook. It was filled with headlines either written in bubble letters or cut out from magazines to accompany photos and mementos of my school achievements, family milestones, and vacations. It was a labor of love, and even from the age of about seven I was conscious of actively creating something tangible to honor my experiences and soon-to-be memories.

These days the practice of scrapbooking has gone high-tech, with ready-to-download digital templates and easy-to-use book-making software. It’s big business. But the underlying motivation is still the same.

“Our mission is all about celebrating the vibrant and colorful threads of life...be it the joy of a wedding or a beautifully lucid moment with a parent or spouse suffering dementia,” says John Falle, owner of scrapbooking behemoth Creative Memories. “All are worth sharing, remembering, cherishing. What we do matters. A lot!”

Scrapbookers are often the de facto family historians in their circle. They are concerned with preserving memories, and ensuring that memories accompany photographs.

Occasionally, when I briefly introduce myself to new people who ask what I do, they jump to the conclusion that what I do is create scrapbooks for people. In a sense, yes…but in most ways, no.

A page from my mother’s amateur yet heartfelt scrapbook, including her school report cards from the 1950s.

How are personal history books different from scrapbooks?

Ah, let me count the ways…

Immediate vs. Reflective

Scrapbooking is often done on a regular basis, be it weekly or monthly, yielding a continuous flow of memories, generally chronological. Even when memories are shared thematically, they are usually done so in real time, not looking back from a distance.

Personal history is usually undertaken in a reflective way, an individual looking back on the currents of their life from a vantage point of age and experience. A personal historian such as myself helps discover the narrative threads that weave the story together, revealing meaning and layers of depth.

DIY vs. Bespoke

Scrapbooking is a DIY endeavor. Although people often engage in scrapbooking communally (whether through clubs or within a family or group of friends), the memories flow from one person’s mind onto the page.

Personal history is usually done in conjunction with a professional storyteller. We may call ourselves personal historians, personal biographers, editors, ghostwriters, or memoir coaches. No matter the name, though, we have in common the goal of helping clients dive deeper into their memories. Through one-on-one interviews and guided reminiscence, we empower individuals to tap into their experiences and illuminate their journeys.

Finished Products

With the advent of digital scrapbooking, the design and output of scrapbooks has become more and more sophisticated. Scrapbooks tend to be dominated not only by photographs but the inclusion of ephemera such as menus, place cards, and tickets, bits and baubles that add texture and a sense of nostalgia to the bearer’s memories. They are often output on home printers or saved to a digital scrapbook that continues to evolve.

While mementos of the same kind may be included in personal history books, they are design elements that help set a tone for a particular time period or life experience, and do not typically dominate a layout. Heirloom books created by personal biographers (also referred to as family history books, personal memoirs or personal histories, and life story books) are most often designed akin to a narrative book, with a table of contents, foot lines and folios, and the like, and are traditionally printed and bound.

Images and reproductions of mementos are used as design elements in personal history books, just as they are in scrapbooks, but the focus is on refined storytelling, and the final product is a professionally bound book designed to stand the test of time.

How are personal history books similar to scrapbooks?

• The journey is as important as the end product. Story sharing can be healing or cathartic; it can help us identify patterns and change our life narrative even as we are living it. It is a gift to be heard, as well as to bear witness to another’s life stories.

• Memories and family stories are valued enough to preserve for the next generation. Both a scrapbooker and a family biographer can undoubtedly envision their children (and maybe their children’s children) sitting on a couch flipping through the pages of a book, listening to an elder share their stories and create family lore.

If you enjoy scrapbooking, does that mean personal history is (or is not) a good idea for you?

If you are a scrapbooker, we share a nostalgic soul and genuine respect for the past. And, if you are a scrapbooker, you have already taken steps to preserve your memories (congrats!).

You are a scrapbooker who has a need for a personal historian if:

• You want to capture stories of another family member besides yourself, and you don’t have time or inclination to interview that family member and help them curate their photographs.

• You want to use your years’ worth of scrapbooks as memory prompts for telling a more cohesive story and preserving it professionally.

Does this describe you? Consider reaching out to me to see how we might be able to work together to take your scrapbook(s) to the next level, for you or for a loved one.

Are my memories of my mother gone?

Me and my mom in the front yard of our Putnam Lake, New York, home, June 1971

Lately I have been having a recurring dream. It’s not a good dream, and it haunts me throughout my days. Have I lost all memories of my mother?, I wonder. I awake not knowing, searching, afraid. Of course I haven’t lost them all…but my fears are real, grounded in my reality that I have no one in my life to talk to regularly—deeply—about this most special person in my life.

Usually I share advice-driven stories on this blog. I decided, instead, to share some recent writing I did about my mom, and my experience of grief, here. Why? Because I think personal stories connect us. Because I think the grieving process, while unique to each of us, is also universal in many ways.

And because too often I hear the words, “What stories do I have to tell that matter?”

And while everyone—truly, everyone—has stories to tell, sometimes it’s the stories we can’t tell that may resonate; the ones we have to search for, feel rather than see, that come forth. Just because I am not relating specific details of memories of my mother in this passage, it was worthwhile for me to write—cathartic, yes, but helpful too on my path to remembering yet more, and honoring my experience as it is being lived, right now.

Soon I will share a post about ways to access and trigger our memories in an effort to write meaningful memoir. But for now, as the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death approaches, I offer up this most personal (and brief) piece as an example of what may result when we focus on our experience of, well, not remembering.

Losing Her, Again

It is not reconstructed memory or exaggerated legacy to say that there are no superlatives great enough to convey my love for my mother. She was my role model, best friend, hero, and champion. My daily phone call. My witness.

Lately, I can’t remember her.

I want movie reels.

I want to see my mom lunging toward me for a hug, leaning back into a belly laugh that could go on for minutes. Pulling groceries out of the trunk of her brown Mazda, closing her eyes as I drive across a bridge. Smelling daisies in the kitchen, back-to-school shopping at Petrie’s five-and-ten. Playing kickball in the front yard in Brewster, making quiche in my galley kitchen in Brooklyn. I want to see Lillian Roode, here. Somewhere.

If my memories are silent films, that’s okay. Hearing her voice would bring me to tears, joyful tears; but seeing her in motion—well, maybe I could touch her, if I just reached far enough.

After she passed away I was feverish with intent.

I wrote her eulogy over the course of a fews hours in the middle of the night, between sessions breastfeeding my three-month-old son, in a nondescript motel room lit only by the glow of my laptop. I was hungry for stories of her—stories I had not yet heard that would shine a light on her soul, stories I had heard so many times they had become lore. The new kept her alive, the old brought comfort amidst the knowledge that she was, indeed, not alive.

At her wake, I listened to all that friends and families offered up, though I heard very little; I was present that day in body, not spirit.

Months later I would surrender to my insomnia and reach for the ornate journal I never wrote in for fear my musings would not live up to the grandeur of the leather-bound book, and I would write and write and write, hardly pausing for breath: bulleted lists in barely legible handwriting enumerating every single little memory I had of her. I wanted them all. When I would pause to think and memories did not wash over me immediately, I felt unworthy. Of my grief, of my happiness, of her belief in me.

Some nights I wrote the same memories I had scratched out the previous evening. No matter; I was desperate to not forget. My neat, deliberate script turned into sprawl as I raced to recover my dreams, convinced as I was that they held secrets of her in the beyond, glimpses of the memories I couldn’t access on demand.

Where did they go, my memories?

I have no one in my life who shares my familial grief, no one who knew my mother for the length of time that I have and who misses her the way I do. No one in my life with whom to reminisce, swap stories, or get lost in laughter.

I want to cry.

I want to occasionally swim in my grief. To allow myself to fill that hole inside me with buoyant water and float amidst my memories. To invite another in to see my mother’s reflection alongside me, to recognize her in me, and to find her somewhere in the void.

If not occasionally, perhaps once.

But.

The hole is there. The memories, the tears, are not.

Where did they go?

Think your grown kids don’t care about your stories?

I was recently chatting with another local entrepreneur about our businesses. Her interest was piqued by a life story book sample I had in tow, and she was clearly drawn to the idea of preserving her stories.

Fast-forward two weeks, when I bump into her again: “I was talking about what you do with my 24-year-old daughter. She clearly had no interest in learning anything more about me or her father—she just doesn’t care.” As she said this, there was a look of barely concealed anguish on her face, her body folding in on itself.

Oh, my.

Of course this isn’t the first time I have heard such a sentiment. Many people with whom I speak tell me that their kids—even adult children with families of their own—could not care less about their family history.

• “If they cared, they would ask me what my childhood was like.”

• “I’ve tried to tell my kids about what it was like to move here from China, but they barely listen.”

• “Are you kidding? Of course I don’t talk about my past with my kids.”

The thing is: They might not care now, but they will someday.

How do I know? Because I have heard the regrets of too many. Folks who wish they had asked the questions, heard the stories, witnessed their parents as people beyond ‘mother’ and ‘father’—before it was too late.

Let me ask you this: Are there things you wish you knew about your own parents? That you wish you had been able to ask them before they passed away?

Now: Did you care about those things when you were in your twenties?

If you put yourself in your grown kids’ shoes, you’ll see that their lack of “care” about your past—about your experiences and wisdom—is because they haven’t learned to care yet. They take for granted that you’ll be there when…when they need something, and when they eventually want to talk (and listen). They are in the midst of forming their own lives, focused on the “me,” not, ahem, on you.

You get that, right? It doesn’t mean they don’t care; it means they don’t care to pay attention just yet.

Your stories are the gift they don’t yet know they want.

Whether you begin writing anecdotes in a question-a-day journal or sit down with a personal historian such as myself, please do something to share your stories for posterity.

Don’t let your kids have regrets.

Still not convinced your stories will matter one day?

Browse the posts below to explore why it’s so crucial to preserve your life stories now for the next generation.

Best high-end gifts for family history lovers

A web search for “family history gifts” yields a lot of kitschy tchotchkes and nonfiction books galore, but what if you want to get something extra-special for the family genealogy buff? I’ve rounded up a few of my favorite ideas, from customized, framed family trees to personalized life story books.

Consider gifting one of these family history–themed items to a loved one for their birthday or a holiday, or add one of the more luxurious choices (like an exclusive travel packages to your ancestral home) to your family’s wish-list and let everyone chip in!

7 Great Genealogy Gifts

1 - Custom Family Tree

Okay, maybe the plastic tubs of newspaper clippings and document copies aren’t exactly HGTV-ready, but every genealogy-loving soul should have at least one family tree framed and on display—why not gift them with one that’ll knock their socks off?

For those with a traditional bent, I opt for the ancestor trees from Branches Art, which pair nature-derived colors with illustrated trees (you know, the kind with actual leaves).

And for those who gravitate more to modern styles, I recommend I Chart You, whose heritage charts are minimal and clean—and can be downloaded in high resolution for your own use or printed (check out the gold foil on white option) and framed.

Want a major pop of color? My Tree and Me offers unique modern designs, as well, with choices that would fit particularly nicely in a child’s room or a cool office space.

Now those handwritten pedigree charts that are seemingly always in-progress can stay out of sight while the family names get museum-quality treatment.

I Chart You

Branches Art

My Tree and Me

2 - External Hard Drive

While the paper-hoarding tendencies of family historians cannot be denied, more and more research is being conducted online, and digital backup of documents is a must. One can never have too many external hard drives for archiving and research on the go.

If you’re the technical one in the family, select a disk you think would be best for your loved one. If, on the other hand, your family history–loving friend is particular about things (ahem, most genealogist types, ahem, are), I would suggest getting them a gift card to the Apple Store or Amazon, where EHD options abound.

3 - Heritage Travel Tour

Ever wonder what your grandparents’ hometown in Puglia was like? Whether you want to sample the cuisine your ancestors ate, gaze out from the harbor from which they immigrated, or tour a bunch of sites that dot your genealogical map, consider booking a customized trip to explore your family origins. Ancestry ProGenealogists offers genealogy cruises as well as guided heritage tours; and Classic Journeys will customize an ancestral trip whether you have a little or a whole lot of family history info to go on—seek origins, explore the world, feel connected like never before!

Classic Journeys

ProGenealogists

4 - Professional Genealogist Services

At some point in every family historian’s journey they will hit the proverbial brick wall. There may be no more viable “hint” leaves on ancestry.com, conflicting information on one line of ancestors, or seemingly no place to start in researching another line. A professional genealogist can help locate documents in foreign countries, resolve discrepancies in research, or trace your roots back for generations. Discover how to choose the right genealogist for you with advice from Legacy Tree Genealogists, and search the Association of Professional Genealogists for someone near you.

Legacy Tree Genealogists

association of professional genealogists

5 - Gift Certificate for a Personal History Interview

Is there someone in the family who has stories to tell and then some (you know, your favorite family dinner guest!)? Or a loved one who you know has experienced life to the fullest but who sits quietly listening to everyone else? Let them know how much they are valued by gifting them with a few hours of personal history interviews.

Their first reaction might very well be, “What stories have I got to share?!”—but I say with confidence that everyone’s memories matter, and an experienced personal historian will help not only set the subject at ease and draw those stories forth, but help shape them and find a meaningful narrative thread.

Please don’t be among the regretful who wish they had asked questions of their loved ones only after it’s too late.

Don’t worry too much about what to do with the interview material (I craft heirloom coffee table books from my clients’ stories, but I have colleagues and friends who specialize in audio clips and video biographies, too). For now, find a personal historian who makes you feel comfortable, then get those stories flowing—and feel secure in knowing they are preserved for posterity. Did I mention this one’s as much a gift to YOU as it is to your recipient?

Modern Heirloom Books - Gift Certificates

6 - Photo Organizer Services

Too often we don’t think about what will become of the boxes and devices full of family photos until someone dies, and then the emotions and overwhelming volume of stuff to deal with can cloud our judgment. Buy your parents a package with a photo organizer, who will help sort, purge, digitize, and memorialize the photos that mean so much to your family. It’s worthwhile to contract a professional for this time-consuming and important endeavor.

Find a professional photo organizer near you in this national directory.

The Photo Organizers

A few more (lower-priced) gift ideas for the family history lover in your life:

Forget about a utilitarian magnifying glass—gift them this leather-handled, aged-brass one that adds sophisticated charm to their work space.

Request a catalog from Gaylord Archival or Archival Methods and wrap it with a Visa gift card so your recipient knows your intent (preservation supplies, of course).

There are quite a few lovely choices on Etsy with Tree of Life designs, like this necklace, that are sure to appeal to the family history fan in your life. Search lapel pins, too!

Two books from Rizzoli any history lover will be proud to display on their coffee table: The Statue of Liberty: The Monumental Dream; and The Stories They Tell: Artifacts from the National September 11 Memorial Museum.

What’s your favorite? Do you have any other unique gift ideas for the family history lover in your family?

When a parent doesn’t want to talk about their past

I hear it often—different words, varying specifics, but always the same underlying message:

“His war years were so painful that they are buried deep.”

“My dad’s childhood was unbearable, so it’s a part of his life he would rather not revisit.”

“My mom refuses to talk about her own father; I assume he was not a very nice person.”

Implied: “My parent will never talk about the past.”

But I wonder: Have you ever asked?

I don’t mean a passing remark about how he/she never speaks about their childhood. I mean asking, in a forthright manner, if they would share the stories of their past. Have you ever asked?

Why it’s sometimes easier to talk to a stranger

I recently heard a story about an elderly gentleman who launched into stories of how his father was an abusive alcoholic: This gentleman spoke without reservation, in depth, and at length. He was speaking to a fellow professional personal historian who had been hired by the gentleman’s grown children.

At the end of two hours of sharing his painful experiences, he indicated that his children would not want to know about any of this.

“They specifically told me they would like to know about your father,” she responded. “Why do you think they aren’t interested?”

“Because they never once asked,” he said.

This man’s children had made it clear that they thought their father would never open up about his own dad. Had they ever asked him, though?

Chances are, they may have made passing remarks about their father’s difficult childhood. Perhaps they treaded lightly because they knew it was difficult terrain. Maybe they asked, but their dad assumed they wouldn’t want the whole messy story.

When family members are the ones trying to capture stories of the past, assumptions can unintentionally impede the way. Consider some of the negative assumptions that may arise when family members interview their elders:

My kids think they want to know, but the reality will be too painful for them to hear.

I can’t imagine my daughter will want to know any more than the basics of my childhood.

I don’t want my son to have negative impressions of his grandfather.

Conversely, when an outsider—whether it be a biographer or a caregiver—asks, the storyteller may feel welcomed in a different way. The assumptions are more positive:

I have been invited to speak. This person wants to know my stories!

This person has no preconceived notions about who I am—I start with a clean slate.

How to get stories from a (seemingly) reluctant storyteller

If you would like to ask your parents or grandparents questions about difficult periods from their past, here are a few tips to generate open conversation:

1. First ask if they would be willing to speak about the specific topic. Clearly express your genuine interest, stressing how learning more about your loved one’s past will help you understand them (and maybe even your own childhood) better.

2. Indicate further why you are interested: Would you like to shed light on your great-grandparents or other individuals further up the family tree? Are you seeking examples of resilience to fuel your own growth? Are you simply curious about this person whom you love beyond compare, wishing to know them as a person in their own right and not just in relation to you (as your mother, say)?

3. Don’t merely hear; listen. Hearing is a passive act; sounds come to us and are received. Listening, on the other hand, is an active endeavor. Pay attention to what your family member is saying. Make eye contact, ask follow-up questions, feel empathy. It is okay to begin from a list of prewritten questions if you go into the interview with an open mind, letting the conversation twist and turn with the currents.

4. Be prepared to be surprised. Beware those nasty assumptions again! You have undoubtedly constructed a narrative around the unknown portions of your relative’s life. Chances are that any storyline you have imagined may be far from the truth. Be willing to listen openly and, most critically, without judgment.

5. Reserve judgment. Yes, this one’s worth repeating. Listening to your loved one’s stories is a privilege. They are trusting you with precious memories. They are making themselves vulnerable. Reward that trust by engaging with them genuinely, bearing witness to their life, and seeing them sans judgment.

When a professional is the way to go

If you are uncomfortable trying to glean stories that you think your parents or grandparents may be uneasy speaking about, consider hiring a personal biographer to conduct interviews. Reach out to see how we could work together to preserve your family legacy.

Related reading coming in future blog posts:

• Why It’s Important to Capture Difficult Family Stories

• Providing Examples of Resilience to the Next Generation