Telling stories

"Great stories happen to those who can tell them." 

My cousin Robyn made this remark to me at my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary party this weekend, an event at which lots and lots of stories were told. I wanted to attribute the quote to her but she laughed and said that no, she did not come up with it; she had heard someone else say it a while before.

Robyn and Arie, playing farm. 

A quick google search revealed the source of this quote is actually Ira Glass, who many know as the producer and host of the radio program This American Life. 

Ira Glass, you said it. Spot on.

I was born into a family of story-tellers, particularly on my father's side. His parents and their children can tell stories that will cause your whole body to lean forward with rapt attention and they have tales that will leave you breathlessly slapping your knees and throwing your head back with laughter.

Great aunts with my beautiful, joyful grandma! (second from the left)

Aunts, ruining the moment. Or perfecting it, depending on who you ask ;-)

My grandparents tell the best stories because they have so much material to work with. They lived through WWII in the Netherlands. My grandma remembers how one of her grammar school classmates celebrated his birthday during the war by handing our pinky fingernail sized caramels to the class, a treat his mother had probably made from a precious can of condensed milk. We were so lucky, she says, we didn't have a lot but we never had to eat tulip bulbs like some of our friends. That's hunger.

My grandpa, who was a teenager during the war, remembers hiding in a barn, way up in the rafters, as the Nazis came searching- for what I'm not sure- throwing pitchforks through the hay. They didn't find him, thank God.

After the war they both immigrated to Canada. My grandpa flew across the Atlantic on one of the very first passenger planes to make the flight. It was very loud, he says, and cold.

They met- Ralph and Jacoba- at a church function for young adults in Southern Ontario and when they were eventually married they moved into a house without electricity or plumbing. They raised eight children together, all in cloth diapers with a hand crank washing "machine" and a clothesline. My grandpa worked at first as a bread delivery man and then as a butcher in his own shop.

Grandpa and Grandma, married 60 years and still smiling! 

There are hundreds, if not thousands, of stories from their sixty years together. When I was a girl, one of my favorite things to do was wash dishes with my grandma and hear her stories about coming to Canada and learning English, about raising eight little ones in an old farmhouse with three bedrooms and one bathtub between them, about the fun they had in spite of it all- camping in the summer, ice-skating in the winters, and about the kids getting into trouble with various animals on the farm. My dad has a particularly good one about a time they tried to make a billy goat swim.

My dad's side of the family. Most of them, anyway. 

I hear these stories with amazement. My friends and I- we get overwhelmed because we have to fold all the laundry we pull from the dyer and when our one or two kids won't stay in bed. I don't think I have enough neurons in my brain to imagine eight kids and doing all the wash by hand, let alone gardening, farming, running a business, and preparing three meals a day from scratch, when even your scratch is pretty measly to begin with.

They'll be the first to admit they didn't do life perfectly (we can all relate), but when I hear their stories I am always inspired by how hard and humbly they worked to give their children a better future. My grandma made me smile on Saturday when one of my uncles told her that (because Canada is a commonwealth country) couples who celebrate 60 years of marriage- called a 'Diamond Jubilee' a are able to receive a personal congratulatory letter from the Queen. My uncle was asking my grandma for her wedding certificate so he could apply for the letter, knowing my grandma's affinity for the monarch, and she replied true to form:

"Oh don't bother the Queen with that. She has a husband in the hospital and a grandchild on the way. She is too busy for that."

My grandma doesn't want to bother the Queen. That's who she is.

Listening to her children and grandchildren give speeches and toasts. 

Stories tell us who people are and how they do life. They bring us joy and they serve as cautionary tales. Mostly, they inspire- don't they? They encourage us with a sense of if she could do that then I can do this. Stories are interpretations of history, a way to remind us of meaning and purpose in life.

There's not too much in life that I love more than a good story. What are some of your family's favorite stories?

xo