It’s true. Stories exist in every human being. But it’s not as if there’s a book in every person. Instead, everyone has a story in them; a story made of their past, their present and their hopes and dreams, as well as their actions and thoughts. Imagine standing in a crowded area such as a shopping mall. Everyone walking around you has as story to tell. But unfortunately, not many do. Some wait for the right time to say it, others prefer to keep to themselves. Then there are those who want to see in bookstores and others keep their stories for their children and grandchildren.
Truth is, no matter how much you keep it in or wait for the right time, bits and pieces of your life’s story come out in the form of the words you say, your actions and every time you reminisce. But perhaps you are the type who isn’t expecting to make such a big thing out of your story. You just love to use your experience to help others or to guide the younger ones or to stop them from making the mistake you made in the past. If you fall into the latter group, don’t think for a second that your story is untold. In more ways than one, your live has touched many others.
This was something I came to realize after the many funerals I attended since I was young. Attending funerals is the one saddest occasion to being a part of a church. The majority of my church is made up of the elderly and I know most of them which makes them family to me. But the cycle of life must come to an end and each time I find myself attending a wake service, I realized that there’re still loads more that I didn’t know about the deceased.
It’s funny how it has to be after a person has passed on that the relatives start to step to the front and talk about the cherished memories of that person. They begin to think back and reminisce. But it is during such times that the story of the deceased is often told, albeit from a different point of view. For example, there was an elderly man who never fails to attend church every Sunday and sleeps in a coffee shop across from the church late the night before. An elderly woman whom I was fond of used to be stern instead of the gentle and sweet old lady I have come to know. Another elderly man took care of his brother’s son as his own and lived just across my church. Their pasts may seem mundane to some, but it is still a life that’s theirs and theirs alone, which makes it all the more special.
What I’m saying is that if there is someone, say a relative or a friend you are exceptionally close to, try asking about their past and if they are willing and eager to tell you, then listen. You never know, the stories they have to tell may be much more interesting than what you’ve expected.