A dear lady was dripping in shame when she called, saying things like, 'I am so sorry you had to witness that. You must see so much. Is it just us?'
I held back, till she could say it all and then gently replied, 'I am the keeper of stories.'
Who are any of us to judge another?
Life gets messy, especially when someone has died. No one is at their best and none of us know how to feel or even where to begin in unpicking all the emotions that roll through. It is a deluge. We do our best with all the decisions and actions that need to be taken and the deadlines we face, and we trust that those who come in to help can carry us forward and flow support with understanding and no judgment.
I remember the funeral director for my Dad, and how I came to rely on his calm experience and understanding. Nothing was too much trouble and he treated us like family. We have stayed in touch, which I am grateful for, and I try to follow his example.
We are the keepers of each other's stories.
I read an article yesterday, where an editor was working on a collection of women's diaries when her husband of over forty years died. She found herself unable to read. She still does. Yet, in editing the women's diaries, she discovered women from over one hundred years ago through to today who found the words to express their thoughts and feelings on all aspects of life, and among the pages, grief was there in all its forms. The editor found momentary solace in others' stories of grief.
The sharing of stories is crucial, as is the way they are shared.
The word Eulogy is rarely used in the ceremonies I create, as a loved one's story is told. We each have a story and as memories are shared, the way of telling a story evolves and captures the essence of someone who has died. It all comes from love and balance.
Our stories are ours to share, in whichever way we choose, yet when we die, we rely on those who are here to tell our story for us. Celebrants are not only the keepers of stories in what we see and hear, we are also storytellers in how a life is celebrated.
We need to keep other's stories safe and choose the stories we share and how we tell them with loving wisdom.
I loved this Jane. ❤️ I love the term, keeper of stories. Also, I can identify with the woman who couldn't read while grieving. I could barely read anything for almost a year. Zero focus or interest. It comes with the numbness. ❤️💜🦄 xx It's me UB! xx
What a beautiful way to put it - a keeper of stories.
Ohhh, how I love this post. A good friend (who is a therapist) told me about a book she was reading called Tear Soup. How important it is in grief to cry. A soup of tears to help us live through our memories and grief. Being a story keeper is such a gift to those who you work with, Jane. And to us, your readers.
It is such a gift to be granted being a story keeper. Being their trusted pillar is priceless. Thank you for sharing this story with us, Jane, Erika
So beautiful! So amazingly beautiful, Jane. Thank you for all the stories you keep and all the stories you share! with love, Annette Rochelle Aben