by Karl Joseph Brodtmann (1787-1862)
Living here in Scotland, I've come to appreciate how storytelling is such a rich part of the cultural fabric here. The travellers, in particular, have nourished the storytelling tradition over generations.
Growing up in Canada, I never thought of myself being part of such a "storytelling" family or culture. I grew up on stories "told" through television and books.
Yet recently, I've become more acutely aware of the stories told in my own family, particularly by grandparents, aunts and uncles. In fact, now that both my parents have passed on, I find myself not only missing them, but missing their stories. No matter how old I got, I never tired of listening to my Mom tell the story of my birth or stories of my childhood. I miss my Dad's stories of the Depression and growing up through the War. And I miss the jokes, anecdotes and funny stories shared by my grandparents, aunts and uncles at family parties. Most of all, I miss being able to call my Mom or Dad and asking them about the past, about things that happened, about relations that I can't recall but know that they would know. I miss their stories, their memories.
I'd be interested in your thoughts and reflections on your storied past. Whose stories do you miss?
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