We talked about different things, including family history things. Talking, telling stories. It was fun and I learned things about my family. It made me think about how telling stories is how we learn about who we are. Writing them, hearing them, repeating them. We sort things out. We see beyond ourselves. What we decide to share is as important as the story itself. Why did we remember that particular detail in that way? What is significant about our version of the event as opposed to another family member's version? I've heard it called self identity, self perception, all different psychologcial terms, but really, if you think about it, our perception does more to define us than reality. The way we share our perception, and therefore oruselves, is through our stories.
I'm always amazed at how we writers can come to the same conclusion even after traveling a variety of routes. :) Always enjoy your comments in class.
ReplyDeleteI'll bet you had fun with your dad. I have some quirky memoirs I've written about my dad. He was so quiet and reserved, never talked much at all so I took some singular incidents and created my own stories.
Our family has always been close, even the cousins and other extended family. It's nice, and quirky is also a good adverb for it.
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