We Remember

At the beginning of November this year I was performing in Tucson Arizona. While I was there Margy, my host, took me to the Day of the Dead celebration. It was an amazing experience for me. People were dressed in costumes and decorated their faces with white, black, and red makeup to look like skeletons. Others brought pictures or mementos of loved ones who have passed on. It is a celebration of remembrance for those who are no longer living on this earth. November is nearly over but when I woke up this morning this celebration was on my mind. It is my understanding that the whole idea is that so long as you speak the name of those who have passed they are never really gone.

Here at the end of the year, we celebrate the holidays. I realized this morning that this is my time of remembrance and it very likely is a time of remembrance for you too. My family celebrated our family holiday together in the middle of November; it lasts for about 3 days. As we all prepared our traditional meal, my sister and I taught our children how to make some of the regular dishes enjoyed on the table. Throughout the weekend we often said, “Do you remember how Daddy…” or “Mom used to …”. We always look at the tiny ones and take note of how much they look like someone who came before them. We remember.

I look around my home and smile as I admire furniture that once belonged to my Grandmother. There are quilts my mother made from clothing once worn by family members. My father’s hat hangs on a hook in my living room, a lamp once owned by my aunt illuminates the pages of my book, I make homemade rolls from a recipe that was created by my husband’s grandmother, we call them Grandma’s Rolls. I often hold a pen or pencil in the unique way my father did to write. My sister’s house is much the same, and she makes homemade noodles from a recipe that belonged to her mother-in-law. We remember.

There are remembrances and a story of those who have passed everywhere. My husband and I were traveling, and at a rest station, there was a memorial with individual names of police from the area who died in the line of duty. Consider all of the war memorials that carry the individual names of those who have passed, monuments stand strong and tall to remember, auditoriums and parks are often named for those who have gone on…I could continue, but I think you get the idea. We remember.

I tell stories on stage, and at nearly every performance someone comes up to me and tells me about a chord of remembrance that was plucked. We remember.

What fond memory do you have? What story do you tell as you remember loved ones who have passed? Leave me a note, tell me about it. We remember.

A Picture Speaks a Thousand Words

There are times when I feel that pictures speak better than words. I was walking around in my yard and snapped some photos of the color that is still there. It makes me feel peaceful and seems to tell its own story.

Celtic Storytelling

I went to Arizona this past weekend. I was hired to tell Celtic stories at the Tucson Celtic Festival. I had such a great time! I’d never been to Arizona before and my host, Margy, treated me so very well.

The festival was such fun. I told stories to a varied audience; all the way from tiny ones to those who had accumulated a life of wisdom. I shared about the importance of the storyteller in the Celtic tradition.

A storyteller would travel from town to town learning the news, gaining new stories, and sharing what was learned along the way. When a storyteller entered a community, they would knock on the door of a family requesting hospitality. It was a great honor to be selected by the storyteller. The family would host the storyteller giving them room and board. In the evenings the family would invite the entire community to come to their home to sit and listen to the storyteller as they would sit by the fire of the family and share stories and news. The storyteller was CNN, Netflix, and phone device all rolled into one. This was the oral tradition, the original social media.

A Halloween Story

Today is Halloween, when October 31 rolls around I sit on a lawn chair in my front yard, a puppet in hand, handing out treats. A couple of years ago I was doing just that when a young woman, a college student, came by with a younger sibling she was overseeing for trick or treating. She looked at me and said, “Oh my gosh! You’re the puppet lady. I am sure you don’t remember me, but I was in your residency when I was in 2nd grade. You’re the reason I decided to become a teacher. Do you remember telling us that you had been a classroom teacher?”

For more than a decade I worked with a local school teaching puppetry and storytelling for their elective program and, yes, they called me the puppet lady. I cannot tell you how many students I worked with in that school, but I know I had a great time with each and every one of them. This moment in my front yard really touched me. You never know when you are going to influence life, touch a heart, encourage a mind, or help someone to make a decision.

Live a great story…it will likely become part of someone else’s story too.

Some Sparks are Good

I opened my dishwasher this morning to put the clean dishes away, but I soon realized that the machine did not drain. The same thing happened a couple of months ago and I had to snake out my kitchen sink because it was plugged. The problem was solved. I thought this might be the situation again so I checked out the sink and that was not it. I tried starting the dishwasher again and realized that it was not working at all.

So I check the fuse box and sure enough the lever was tripped, I flipped it back and started the dishwasher again. It was working so I started the rest of my day, but suddenly I saw sparks and heard pops happening from under my dishwasher. I immediately ran downstairs to flip the fuse box switch off to cut the power but it was already tripped. I flipped it all the way over to make sure it was off. I am now looking for someone who can come and make the necessary repairs, so my dishwasher will safely work again.

Sparks are good, but not all sparks should be allowed to turn into a fire. Those sparks that came from my dishwasher assured me that I needed to cut the path of electricity so a fire did not begin. They were a warning that something was wrong. Then there are sparks that I want to burn in a controlled fire; lighting a candle, wood in my fireplace, a bonfire in the autumn.

Stories begin as sparks. Some ‘story sparks’ need to be shut down immediately, it is not a story that should be told or shared. Others need to be allowed to burn but controlled. When you stand before an audience you need to consider the fire your story will spark. Are you trying to light a small candle or start a bonfire? Is the story appropriate for those who are trusting you by sitting in your audience?

That’s my thought for this week, now I am going to make some phone calls to try to find someone to fix my dishwasher.