When I was growing up, my maternal grandmother who we called “Nanny,” lived about a mile from our house. Nanny came over most days and would sit at our kitchen table and give me “history lessons,” which is to say that she would tell me the stories from her childhood and young adulthood.
I was captivated by her stories of visiting downtown department stores, her teenage love story, and the antics she pulled along with her seven siblings.
As I got to know her as my grandmother, I got to know the feisty young woman she was: the seventh child of a poor family who felt too fancy for the country life she was born into. A woman who fell in love at a young age and never fell out of love with her sweetheart.
Nanny offered up her stories on a platter, and I delighted in them. She’s been gone for fifteen years, and I have been so grateful to hold those stories in her absence.
But, I’ve always felt a little discomfort with asking the other elders of my family to share their stories, especially since few others have been as forthcoming with their personal history as Nanny was. There’s something inherently awkward about asking someone to tell you their life story, because it implies that someday they won’t be around to tell it.
Colleen Cook works full-time as the Director of Operations at Vinyl Marketing in Ashland, where she resides with her husband Mike and three young daughters. She’s an insatiable extrovert who enjoys finding reasons to gather people.
My grandmother on the opposite side, my “Grandma,” turned 90 years old last week. When we spoke on the phone on her birthday, she said something about how similar the public sentiment around coronavirus is to her memories of WWII – the patriotism, the people pulling together to fight a common enemy, the kindness others are showing to each other.
It presented a perfect opportunity to gather my courage and ask her if I could interview her about her time during the war, and the other years of her life that predate my own. She was, of course, very happy to oblige, and naturally I wondered why I had waited so long.
Over the course of a few hours, I learned about family members I had never met – about their personalities, their relationships and their heartaches. I was transported into her life as a pre-teen girl during WWII, her whirlwind romance with my grandpa during her short-lived stint as a TWA airline hostess and the ups and downs of raising a family in the late 1950s and 1960s.
As she told me her story, she filled in the gaps in my own story. Each season of her life was peppered with a flock of girlfriends, no matter her age. Similarly, I have cherished my own circles of women who have surrounded each season of my own life, and I’m inspired to think of the tribe of women she plays bridge with now, a group of women ages 90 to 101 who have remained sharp, active and close to each other for decades.
Hearing about the assertive, outspoken personality of my own Irish great-grandmother, whom I never met, it felt like kindred spirits with this woman I have never known.
My six year old daughter recently reminded my husband, “Mommy is a boss at home and at work. She’s always a boss.” Learning that the women in my family have always spoken their minds and run the show is a bolstering encouragement… though perhaps I don’t really need one.
Asking your loved ones, particularly your elders, for their stories is such a valuable opportunity to gain a deeper understanding of who you are. If you’d like to get started, try these questions to get the conversation flowing:
What are some of your memories of your childhood?
What was your house like growing up?
What are some of the memories you have of your grandparents, parents and siblings?
Were you close with certain aunts or uncles? What were they like?
Do you remember where you were when you found out about [WWII? Kennedy’s Assassination? The Moon Landing? 9/11?]
What is your favorite book/movie/song?
How did you meet your spouse?
What are your memories of raising children?
How did you choose your children’s names?
Tell me the story of something hard that you survived. What did you learn?
Who inspires you?

