My maternal grandparents had a great story about how they met.

My grandfather originally asked my grandmother’s older sister on a date. At the time, it wasn’t unusual for a younger sister to tag along as a sort of built-in chaperone.

So my grandmother went along.

As the story goes, Grandpa and his date discovered they really didn’t have all that much to talk about. But Grandpa and the younger sister did.

Apparently, they had quite a bit to talk about.

That younger sister became my grandmother, and she and my grandfather were still together more than 60 years later when he died.

I love knowing that story.

It tells me something that dates on a family tree never could. I can picture the awkwardness of that first date. I wonder when Grandpa realized he was more interested in the chaperone than his actual date.

And I’m grateful that somewhere along the way, someone told me the story.

Because there are so many others I wish I knew.

 

The Questions I Can’t Ask Anymore

Different branches of my family came to the United States from different countries. I know bits and pieces. I know that some family names changed as people tried to assimilate. Others may have changed because of errors when people entered the country.

But there is so much I don’t know.

What made them leave?

Was coming to America something they had dreamed about, or something circumstances forced them to do?

How did they decide who would go?

Who did they leave behind?

Were they excited? Terrified? Both?

What did they bring with them?

And what did they miss once they got here?

Those are the questions I would love to sit down and ask my grandparents today.

But I can’t.

And that’s the thing about family stories. We usually don’t realize we’re losing them while the people who hold them are still here.

 

Memory Is More Fragile Than We Think

I’ll admit that I don’t have a great memory.

There are times when I try to remember details from my own earlier years and come up blank. I’ll pull out old photographs and look through them, hoping the pictures will bring some of it back.

Sometimes they do.

A photograph might remind me where we were, who was there or what was happening. One memory leads to another.

But sometimes I look at a picture and realize there are details I simply don’t remember anymore.

It makes me think about how much of our family history exists only in someone’s memory.

If no one asks about it, and no one tells the story, eventually it disappears.

 

We Are All More Than Who We Are Today

I see this in my work, too.

I’ve had clients light up when they begin talking about their younger years.

There can be a noticeable change when someone starts remembering who they were at 20 or 30 or 40. Suddenly, you get a glimpse of a person you didn’t know before.

It reminds me how easy it is to see someone only as they are today.

We see an older parent or grandparent and think of them primarily in that role. Mom. Dad. Grandma. Grandpa.

Or perhaps we see someone near the end of life and begin to define them by what is happening now—the illness, the limitations, the caregiving needs.

But that is only one chapter.

The person sitting in front of us has an entire history.

They had childhood friends.

They fell in love.

They had adventures.

They made mistakes.

They worried about things that probably seem insignificant now.

They made decisions that changed the direction of their lives.

They knew people we’ve never heard of and lived through moments we know nothing about.

There is so much depth to every person.

And sometimes all it takes to discover it is a question.

 

Get Curious

We tend to think preserving family history requires a big project.

Maybe someday we’ll record Grandma telling her life story.

Maybe someday we’ll organize all the old photographs.

Maybe someday we’ll work on the family tree.

Those are wonderful things to do.

But preserving our stories doesn’t have to start with a project.

It can start with curiosity.

Ask your dad what he was like at 20.

Ask your mom about her first job.

Pick up an old photograph and ask who is in it.

Ask your grandparents what they remember about their grandparents.

Ask how two people met.

Ask why the family moved.

Ask about the house someone grew up in, the neighborhood kids, the family traditions, the vacations, the disasters and the things everyone still laughs about.

And then listen.

One question may lead somewhere you never expected.

I know my grandparents were married for more than 60 years. That’s part of our family history.

But I also know that their story began because my grandfather asked the wrong sister on a date.

That’s the part that brings them to life.

There are stories like that in every family.

We just have to be curious enough to ask before they’re gone.