“Am I in the story Gramma?” That’s the first question any of my thirteen grandchildren ask when they see me at the computer, or when I get “Tidbits of Time” out at night to read them a true bedtime story from it.

We all want to be center stage!

If we are read to as a young child, we are more cognizant of the importance of the main character. Especially if we identify with that character. It’s great fun to be in Gramma’s story, but how much more fun, if the child writes a story in which they are that main character. It gives them that wonderful feeling of being somebody special.

My very first recollection of writing a story was coming back to school after summer vacation and my third grade teacher asked us to write about what we did that summer.

As if it was yesterday I remember I wrote about a week at Camp Comfort, up in the mountains of Ventura County. I’m nearly eighty now, but because I wrote about that event the details are sharp and clear in my mind. I recorded it for posterity. It is forever etched in the recesses of my brain, to be re-called into any time or space. That week gave me a lifelong love for camping, exploring and tasting the great outdoors.

The sights and smells still linger. An open campfire, marshmallow’s roasting on a wire clothes-hanger. The smell of coffee brewing in the morning and the sizzle of bacon frying in a big, black iron skillet. These sights and sounds are, for the most part, lost to this generation where we use microwave ovens and Mr. Coffee.

When a child writes about themselves and their family, it gives them great feelings of pride and a sense of value. Their self-esteem goes up. I am important. I am loved. I am cared for. Or I was bad and I was sorry. Or, my dog loved me unconditionally. It’s not important what it’s about, but that it is about them. It is the story of their life and they are unique.

The simple, unpretentious writing of a child is similar to the teaching in Life Story Writing Classes, in that we write off the top of our heads just to get the story out. We can deal with re-write, spelling and grammar at a later time, but it’s important to write the memory while it’s tweaking around in our heads.

No matter what age a writer is, a story has a beginning, a middle and an end. That’s simple enough for a child to understand and the sooner they begin writing their memories, the longer they will have them.

I tell my Grands to “Write on!” They just think I’m cool saying “Right on!” But they’ve gotten the message over time, and they know there is a section in my life story book “Tidbits of Time” that is especially set aside for their stories. I call that chapter “And the Beat Goes On”

Leaves don’t fall far from the tree. What you model before your children, is usually what they do. Let them know the importance to your family of Life Story Writing by doing it yourself. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it doesn’t have to be structured, it doesn’t have to be great. Just do it!

Before you know it, they will want to write their own stories and every family is richer for that!

After all, some of Gramma’s DNA is in the Grands, and like the child in me still squirming around in her seat, waving her hand at the teacher, wanting to be heard I do it with stories about the family!

Life story writing is a child’s opportunity to be heard!

Copyright © 2000 – Life Story Writing Network – Thelly Reahm
The Story Lady in Cardiff by the Sea, CA
Visit Thelly’s Life Story Writing (dot net) website.

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A Tribute to My Mother – Tribute to Mom

MaWee taught me first the love of God. I can remember prayer at our family mealtimes and at bedtimes. I remember attending LaJolla Baptist Church as a toddler and pre-schooler. We then attended other churches nearer to our home as an adolescent and teen. Because of MaWee, God has always been presented to me, always been a part of my life!

While a toddler, I can remember MaWee bailing me out of a hopeless situation. I was playing with my doll’s hot water bottle, and when it bounced under an overstuffed chair, I was unable to reach it. I cried out in frustration and MaWee came to my rescue. She tilted the chair way back and retrieved it for me. As a 2-3 year old, I can remember to this day, how strong she was to lift the chair and give me back my toy. MaWee was the miracle worker before they ever thought about producing the movie.

At 4.5 years old, I remember how she cared for me while I was experiencing the excrutiating pain of a ruptured appendix. She drove me to the hospital herself. After the surgery, I remember how she lovingly taught me … that I wasn’t supposed to show EVERYBODY my scar!

At 5, when my brother and I played with matches and we accidentally started a major bonfire in our side yard, it was MaWee who put it out. It was MaWee who also saw to it that we were … disciplined.

She taught me culture; I took ballet, acrobatic and tap dancing lessons. I remember her support of me the night I danced to “Dance with the Dolly with a Hole in Her Stocking” at a talent night with the dance studio.

It was MaWee who let me walk instead of ride in the parade with my dance troupe. I was barely 6.

It was MaWee who handmade my mouse outfit for a number I did for ballet, and my outfit was complete with PINK ears! I was the ONLY mouse with pink ears! It was MaWee who wanted me to … stand out in a crowd!

She gave me opportunities to learn piano and let me take skating rink lessons. I modeled baby doll pajamas in a fashion show for the Women’s Club of LaJolla.

It was MaWee who taught me that “pretty is as pretty does”. She said many times, “If you can’t say something nice about someone, it’s best not to say anything at all.” She taught me to think before I speak.

I remember MaWee holding me on her lap as she tapped the beat to the songs from movies onto my back. We played a guessing game as to which song she was tapping. My favorite was Doris Day’s song, from the movie, “The Man Who Knew Too Much”, called … Que Sera!

MaWee taught me to be frugal; she showed me how to save money. In fact, I had so much saved back that I played store with my real money. I can remember MaWee and Dad, borrowing money from me when they wanted to go to the movies before payday. She also must have taught me about interest … because I always got back a little more than I had given.

While sewing my clothes in 4th grade, she taught me how to hold in my stomach, so that when I got to be an adult, I’d have a flat stomach. For that, MaWee… I’m grateful to this day!

At the dinner table in 5th grade, I casually mentioned that I’d learned “how you make babies” from my friends at school. I, of course, told the playground version! I asked MaWee if it was really… true. It was MaWee, who took the time after dinner to teach me the more appropriate facts of life.

When MaWee remarried, I was experiencing quite a bit of jealous feelings, going from the baby of the family to the oldest, with 3 younger step siblings. It was MaWee who woke me up before the rest of the family, just so we could have quiet time alone together.

It was MaWee who gave me my first “physical attribute” compliment. Back in the late sixties, we wore micro-mini skirts to high school. MaWee had picked me up from school and told she watched me cross the street and had noticed how “cute” my legs looked in my mini skirt. Gee, they looked just like hers… no wonder!!

It was MaWee who had the patience to teach me to drive a stick shift … in a Corvair no less!

It was MaWee who trusted my judgement enough to allow me to go to a drive-in movie … with a boy… on a FIRST date!

MaWee was there to comfort me when I got dumped by a boyfriend and I thought I’d never get over him. She told me there were plenty of “fish” in the sea. She told me I’d one day find God’s best for me, a man who wouldn’t hurt me like this boy had. Years later, when I went through the heartbreak of a divorce, it was MaWee who cried with me over long distance calls.

When I had strayed from the Lord, it was MaWee who showed me I could start anew and experience once again, God’s forgiveness and “agape” unconditional love.

MaWee showed respect to the men of my life, even when she didn’t approve. She was also there for me when the relationships went sour. She shared from her heart, her own shortcomings and taught me how to move on.

MaWee has loved my own children by her actions. She’s made “memories in the mail” so that they knew who Gramma was, even while she was living out of state. It was her way of influencing their lives… behind the scenes. She sent many a Christian tract, wholesome articles and magazines. To this day, my children look forward to hearing from her in this way.

Growing up, I have many fond memories of beaches, parks, picnics and zoo excursions, camping and hunting trips with Dad, summer YMCA camp, of spending time with my grandparents, of many different church outings. All because MaWee wanted me to have memories to cherish that these experiences would provide.

MaWee passed on the “desire to write” and taught me by example how to put my heart and soul into words, through writing life stories. It is now my favorite pasttime.

MaWee wasn’t perfect. But she loved me perfectly. As you’ve seen, MaWee got to see me in good times and bad… but she’s always stood by me and loved me unconditionally.

I am proud to say that I am my mother’s daughter!

Please honor my mother and visit her website!

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“Well, Kathee, just BE the best darned Black Sheep of the family that YOU CAN BE!”

It gave me such peace of mind that I finally quit my sessions after just 25 years! I’m on my own now … a little shaky at the start; you know, taking those first little baby steps …

And you know what? I even LIKE being the best darned black sheep of the family now!

I’ll bet my therapist won’t be coming up with many more words of wisdom like this for his clients or he’ll be out of business, eh?