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But this time, what hit me so hard was the realization that I have NOBODY LEFT to share my stories with - there will never again be a gathering of my side of the family, and there will never again be a "safe" place to share, and nobody left to listen to, laugh at or care about MY family stories...there is nobody left who genuinely wants to hear those stories, who knows and would be interested in any of the people involved.

I tried to explain this to hubby, but he can't understand the immensity of that loss. His response was to remind me of all of the losses HE has suffered lately and that he's hurting too. I was taken aback, because I've been very supportive of him in his losses, even while in excruciating grief over my own. But the fact still remains that he still has four siblings, two children, two grandchildren and tons of cousins - all of whom we visit frequently enough to keep HIS family stories alive and well.

I've had a rough few days over this. It really makes me feel so terribly alone. But do you know what one thing has helped me more than anything? My miracle pants. Laugh if you want to, but everytime my mind wants to start thinking "who cares anymore", I remember my mended jeans and it makes me smile, because God knew that those would be a constant and unshakeable reminder that HE cares - about even the tiniest details of my life - including my family stories, and the sadness I feel over that loss. Being a story-teller Himself, He would understand.

I know I'm lucky to have hubby's family to lean against...they have long accepted and shown how deeply they love me. It's not their fault that I cannot participate in their family stories, though some of them (the sister who's here especially) do try hard to remember to include me in these family gatherings. But it will never be the same as having my own family to gather, story-tell and laugh with.

Maybe it would be easier/different if I had my own children.

But I do thank God for my beloved grandchildren - because I've been a part of their lives since they were born, someday their family stories will include ME TOO. We already tell stories, and some of them even include Gary! How wonderful is that!

Anyway, see why I had to share this here? Having "here" to come and share this story helps to lessen the "agony of absence". I'm so grateful that I have you and this safe place to share stories and triggers with.



I will never have my own children, EAgle. But it is a choice I made in my 20's, when I realized I couldn't muster up enough maternal feelings. ..even after witnessing cute nieces and nephews popping up in life.

I remind myself that not all children demonstrate their appreciation to their parents, when they grow up as adults. Some cut off contact with good parents. Now that must be awfully painful..to me..much more than choosing not to have children.

As for the family stories in another language..I know what you mean since my partner increasingly must speak with his mother in German. But I know the lady when she didn't have dementia and spoke more in English. I have the memory of those wonderful chats with his mother. I also recognize the importance for him to retain his German fluency, by USING it. Just as he is in a fog, when he visits my family when he hasn't bothered to learn Chinese. In a way, he and I are mutually understanding in this way for each other.

Eagle, I will not see my family this year..I'm not sure about next year. flights are not cheap. I think some of us wonder as we try to learn through you, how we will each deal with tremendous family member loss.

For the stories that you can no longer discuss with another family member, you ..already share them with us, here on BWS. So thank you.

I'm not sure...have you written any stories, done videos, etc.

I have a friend whose brother made a 1/2 hr. documentary that was aired nationally...about the family's fortune cookie making machine and business when the father was alive. the film was made after his death. I think the film was enormously cathartic to the family and filmaker.

This story takes place in Calgary, in the Chinatown there.

I know for myself..the memory making and reliving those old family stories....came alive when i did volunteer work for several years in the area of race relations, human rights and immigrant support services. this was before I switched to cycling.

There is another right family for you, Eagle in this big world, where you can tell the same stories and help others.

I think I know where I can find my community family to relive those family stories and help the next generation...
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