Have you ever regretted not asking your grandparents (or your parents) something before they passed away? It’s a tough opening question for a post, I know. But all you regulars should be used to it by now here.
I was reading a beautiful, poignant post by one of my favourite bloggers – Cate from I’ll Think Of A Title Later – and was particularly struck by a reply she made to a commenter.
“Why is it that when we’re finally interested, it’s often too late?”
It’s so true. I don’t know about you, but I know I take for granted my own father, nearing his 70th year – there are things I know I should probably ask… but I don’t know what to ask! It’s not a case of not knowing how, it’s more “what” for me.
But for many of us, relationships aren’t at that level that we feel we can ask.
What’s with that?
What would it really take?
We all know death is pretty damn final. When all is said and done, a life lived comes to the same end for everyone – we’ve all heard it said (or read), “We all come into this world and leave it exactly the same way.”
So with that in mind, if there is something you need to know – something that will help to complete you or heal you – why not seize the day? Your Soul will find the right words and the right way to ask what you need to of the person you need to ask. If your intention is genuine and correctly placed, you will be taken care of (as will the receiver of your question).
There’s just so much of this “I wish I had asked her/him but we didn’t talk about it, we weren’t allowed”, “Asking question would have caused too much pain”, “I was told never to bring it up” in families. Then the loved one is dead and gone before we know it. Even though sometimes, that loved one has been in our life for 20, 30, 40 years. We still manage to say “I never got to ask…”.
I know as children we learned this way. But we’re not children now. For the sake of our children, or ourselves… would we really let this misguided thinking keep us all in lock-down over things that, if given half the chance, could release a person from their own mental prison?
At this point, let’s not forget the recent Reader’s Story about the family that covered up the loss of their older brother and how that ended, due largely to the bravery and the need of his sister. You can read that story here. It is by no means a one-off. But what a fine illustration of the good that can come of connecting with our relatives before it’s too late to do it “easily”.
How do we really know bringing up a burning question/seeking help to connect the dots in our own personal lives will cause irreparable pain? It won’t. It really won’t. A wound needs air and care so it may then be cauterized.
One of the most memorable times I shared with my grandmother was the night of my beloved Granddad’s funeral. That night, back at her home, she opened up and told me all about the abuse she suffered as a small child at the hands of an older boy (the son of the foster family she had been shipped off to after she tragically lost her mother at the tender age of just 7). I realised then that her great protector, her husband Tom, had been all she needed to keep those memories at bay. Had she ever wanted to tell us before that point? I will never know.
But looking back on her final years, my grandma actually did a LOT of purging. I find that very healthy. For a woman who was generally a closed book, as well as never one for cuddles or any overtly lovey-stuff at all towards us as I grew up, she managed to get out all her very scary, decades-old secrets when the timing was right. Secrets that were kept hidden, out of the light. For good reason. And at the right time, she released them. I can only thank her for her bravery in trusting her audience. I feel only incredibly lucky and privileged I learned from her what I did (and at the poignant times I did, in hindsight), for I would never have asked. You don’t “do” that.
Or …. do you?
Do we have the power to change how it goes in our families? I know we have the right. When it’s done with love.
And now, I will leave you with one final thought that’s as amusing as it is true and deep:
“Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the ‘Titanic’
who waved off the dessert cart.”
― Erma Bombeck
A couple of years ago I asked my father to write his autobiography. He has lived such an interesting life (he is now 83) and always had anecdotes and stories to tell. I asked him to pile all those and all the ‘stuff’ we don’t really talk about face to face into his book. And to my surprise, he did. I am so grateful. it has sparked so much conversation and questions, and thankfully he is still here to answer them. And one day when he is not, I will have this precious book.
HOW exciting. This is such a treasured gift! Genuinely very happy for you and your family (and your beloved Dad). My Dad has got his story too, I think he’s probably put it in a file called “In The Event Of My Death…. Read This, You Lot!”
I agree we should never let things be put off for another day.We just had to put mum into a high care nursing home bed.Just Two months ago she was getting about fine.Im still Trying to Cope with the loss of my mum as she Was.I watch her slowly slip away with the onset of dementia and her body breaking down.
They say dont put things off because everything can change in the blink of an eye but it also can change in a slow heart breaking way which you have no control over.Im mourning My Mum who hasnt passed away in body but is in her mind and soon it will be too late for any questions to be answered.
Yes speak to your loved ones while you are lucky enough to have them in your lives.xx
There are so many things I wished I had asked, so many more I wish I had said. You know, my grandparents and I were so close I don’t think we ever told each other that we loved each other… we never had to which was great. But sometimes… just sometimes… I wish I had the opportunity again now to say it, now that they are gone. I wish too I had filmed / recorded them for my own kids. I know I’ve expressed this wish before. It’s such a simple thing being able to hear someone’s voice… but they are voices my kids will never hear no matter how hard I try and describe them.
Oh, how lovely! This is a topic close to our hearts at the moment. My grandparents live in quake-devastated Christchurch, which has made them face their own mortality even more than people in their 80s with illnesses tend to do. My grandmother has been preparing archival diaries for all the kids and grandchildren over the past few years with memories and photographs and dates and stories. I covet mine desperately!
I also bought My Family books, one for each side of my son’s family, with prompts about family trees and our parents’ memories of us as children for my son to read and remember as we get older and leave him, and share with his children. I really must get on to finishing those!
I have one grandparent left.
Here’s how I do it:
“Nan, merlot or cab sav? both? ok? tell me about….. ”
“What’s that..? we’re both too sober….?’
oxox
Some very wise words here, Kirrily. I’m so pleased my father wrote down his stories but I wish I’d read them through before he died so I could have talked to him about them. It’s lovely to have his story documented, but to question him further on events would have been so much better. I’m making good use of my mum, though, making sure she tells me everything – but that’s not too hard as we chat most days on the phone and she has the memory of an elephant!
Very wise woman’s words there K…and your family already has much to learn from and about you as you are blogging. This is the other part of blogging ..about creating the family history in one way or another.
I am a good “rememberer” of much. In fact, it’s a bit annoying. However, I am delighted that I can recall quite a bit, and like to know that some of the many memory books, scrapbooks and more will continue to spread the family’s history.
You are right about the “untold” stories though, and often they come out much later from our parents and grandparents. I still enjoy them, and it helps me piece together “me”.
My mum passed away in 2007 after a lengthy illness aged 82. Mum always said “I’d rather people tell me what they want to say about me before I die, not at my funeral”…so, true as that is, I arranged for the family to do so. For Mum’s 80th we did that. I made a book up, and each family member got to write (or draw for the little ones) what they wanted to say to her.
Dad and I talk a lot and he’s given me more insight into his history as times gone on. His parents met during WW1 so that has made me particularly interested in that time and where my grandfather fought.
I like to think in our family, with 2 grown up kids, their partners, and now 6 grandkids we continue to be the story tellers for them, and they know more about
US.
Nice one K.
Love your work.
Denyse
I got interested in my family tree about 5 years ago shortly adter my Nanna passed away. I did some extensive research. That doesn’t always unearth stories close to the heart, but it can. None of my grandparents are alive anymore and my parents are late 60′s and early 70′s. As an extension of the family tree research, I did think about interviewing them, maybe even recording it on video, for the sake of transmitting family stories. My parents live interstate so the chances to do that are few but your post had made me think it might be time for me to make more effort in that regard especially now I have two little girls. my mum doesn’t like remembering some of her past though. My dad is more happy to tell his fascinating stories of growing up during the WWII Japanese occupation in Singapore. Thanks for writing this post as Sn important reminder / prompt.
Veronica, I’d love to hear your dad’s stories! My mum and dad have their own accounts of the Japanese Occupation in Indonesia. (My undergrad thesis was about the Japanese Occupation’s influence on the Indonesian Education system).
S
Love this post, K. You’ve inspired me to get my butt into gear and do what I’ve been meaning to do for ages…interview my parents with our video cam.
While my mother is happy to open up about the past and tell me stories, my dad is a lot more closed. Sometimes I think it’s because he’s a little embarrassed about something. What, I don’t know.
But now I’m keen to ask him more and find out. Maybe I’ll be able to piece it all together.