When I wrote recently about the legacy I want to leave behind, I talked about the importance of writing down stories. I am a writer, after all. However, a conversation with friends later that same day reminded me of the power of hearing another’s voice, and seeing their faces. It hits differently.
The same part of our brain where our sense of hearing is processed is also responsible — at least in part — for storing emotional memories. Hearing certain sounds, then, can trigger emotions in a different way than reading text. In fact, music can be therapeutic for patients with Alzheimer’s disease.
Here are a couple of simple examples from my life: Hearing someone tell a joke is more likely to make me laugh than simply reading the joke to myself. Hearing my paternal grandmother tell me about being a “Rosie the Riveter” in the Bremerton, Washington, shipyards would likely have had a different impact on me than reading her relatively brief account of it in her life history, although it’s still a great story.
I was really touched to learn that Mia Love passed away while her family was listening to the audio recording of her reading her book, “Qualified.” It’s not just speaking, either. Singing can be an important way to leave a memory, as well. I am not particularly gifted in singing, but I sang and sang and sang to my children. Now, my children are singing to their children. I have attended both births and deaths where the door to the other side swung open while people were singing. It can be so powerful.
Life stories and simple things
We can narrate our own life stories and we can interview our elders about their life stories while they are still with us. I was able to interview my maternal grandmother in her late 90s, while her memory was still sharp, and learned she had been delivered at home by a midwife.
Perhaps it was because I am a midwife that she told me that story, or maybe a question I asked sparked a memory of her father teasing her while she was growing up that she had “cost him a good horse blanket.” (It was keeping the car warm in January 1922, and flew off when he rushed to fetch the midwife.) It was a story her children had not heard, and now we have a recording of her telling the story in her own words.
The audio and video recordings we leave behind as part of our legacy don’t have to be as serious as a narration of our life story — and they don’t have to be lengthy. In fact, in an era of very short attention spans, shorter is probably better. Your recordings can be as simple as reading a book out loud. During the pandemic, I (and I’m sure many others) read books to my grandchildren and recorded them on Zoom so they could both see and hear me. One of my favorite videos from that time is the one of the Scottish grandma reading the book “The Wonky Donkey” to her grandchild. She laughs so hard she can barely speak and of course, laughter is contagious, so I laugh when I watch the video, and when I read the book myself. Which of course I rushed to buy as soon as I watched the video.
When I think about what I wish I knew about the family that came before me, I would love to have a recording of them telling me about an ordinary day. What tasks occupied their days? What was the weather? What did they eat for a “normal meal”? How did they prepare it? I also think of how helpful it would be to listen to them narrate a photo, for example. Who is in the picture? Where are they? Why were they there? Then I ask myself if I could do that for my family and in the era of tens of thousands of digital photos, I’m simply overwhelmed at the thought.
Here’s another idea I’ve had that could easily be done in the course of daily life: adding photos and even videos to our family cookbook. I created a family recipe book in a Google folder, readily accessible to everyone. It’s just text, however. If I took a picture of the food after I made it, or even recorded a video of me making it, it could add visual interest and make those recipes more memorable.
Not just for when we are gone
Recording stories, recipes, joke-telling, game-playing and other forms of family lore are also good in the here and now, not just when we are gone. Researchers in the late 1990s and early 2000s found that children who know their own family stories show the most resilience. There are three types of family stories: ascending, descending and oscillating. The healthiest of these types of stories are the oscillating stories, meaning stories that both rise and fall. “I worked hard, got a great job but then was laid off. I was depressed at being laid off, but decided to see it as an opportunity to reconsider my career path and now I have a job in a different field that I love even more.” It’s the story of the normal ups and downs of life and can offer family members a story they can relate to.
It was not too surprising to me to learn that the research also found it’s not merely a recitation of family facts that creates and strengthens family resilience, but the use of story. The kind of stories told by the mamas and daddies, grandmas and grandpas around the dinner table, on vacations and during the holidays — those kinds of stories. Recent studies are showing a positive correlation with improved mental health and participating in family history work.
A couple of caveats: Some families and some stories are dysfunctional and broken. I am not suggesting anyone retraumatize themselves by putting themselves in harm’s way — physical, psychological or emotional. Our family has some boundaries on storytelling, too. We aren’t OK with stories that are designed to make fun of others, or that promote hate and/or discrimination. We do, however, talk about what it’s like to experience bullying, hate and/or discrimination.
Moms, put yourselves there
One last note, especially for moms. Please, oh, please, put yourselves in the picture, the audio recording and the video. So often — far too often — we put ourselves behind the camera. We tell ourselves we will be in the picture when we’ve lost more weight, covered up our grey hairs, look less tired, get nicer clothes, become a social media influencer ... ignore the excuses and get in there. I’ve lost 60 pounds from my top weight and while those pictures are awkward for me to look at, I am glad I have them. Even if they’re just good “before” pictures.
Before we leave a legacy, we have to create a legacy. We can do that with stories, whether written, spoken or visually recorded. And, like planting a tree, the best time to start was 20 years ago. The second best time is today.