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Copyright © 2009 Women in Journey. All Rights Reserved. Developed by: DemmeHouse, Inc.
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Telling the Family Story is published in Women in Journey: From Tragedy to Triumph.
Jean L. Jones is a licensed Marriage & Family Therapist.
She is the founder of High
Pointe Counseling Center in Franklin, Tennessee. For
more info, visit her website
Telling the Family Story
by Jean L. Jones, MMFT, LMFT
Get Inspired!
Life Stories for Every Woman
Holidays bring a time of reminiscing about family members who are no longer with us. If you allow yourself to feel sadness or remorse year after year when a memory surfaces, I challenge you to think about adapting a different view or explore sensing other emotions concerning your loved one. At first you may feel guilty thinking about celebration or joy particularly if your family has taken a rigid view of how their loved ones should be remembered.
If you have difficulty with this or become overwhelmed by negative emotions, try to expand your perspective to include how that person was viewed by his or her favorite friend, or how they lived their lives as a teenager or young adult. Writing down some of these memories will give you a voice and help you to clarify your thoughts. It opens the window to experience joy as well as sadness. Our view and perspective of how we remember our loved ones becomes a part of our family story which is passed from one generation to the other, while forming our family’s identity.
The following is an unedited excerpt of a journal entry made by a “woman in journey” while capturing her actions and emotions during the death of her mother. She shares that when reading this entry, even years later she feels comfort and joy.
March 14: My mother died yesterday.
It’s been 2 weeks filled with much change for me however I thank you Father for keeping me and as I yielded to you in each situation you directed me. Nothing is too small to ask you about. I was with her from 10:00 pm 3/12 until she left around 1:45 pm 3/13. She had a pleasant day. She awoke around 6 am, 3/13, filled with much anticipation as she was scheduled to see her doctor that day. She took a bath by herself then sat down and ate her favorite breakfast of sausage and eggs with toast. Then she slowly and painstakingly dressed herself. She was pleased with her new shoes she had bought – Dr. Schols with Velcro straps. She put on her favorite gray pantsuit. Her caretaker the previous day had washed, pressed and curled her hair. So instead of wearing her usual wig she wore her natural hair. She said several times that her mind was telling her body to move but her body wouldn’t. She wrapped a pretty red print scarf around her head and we left the house around 10:10 am. I used her car. We arrived, she signed in and sat down appearing peaceful. After seeing the doctor she was ready to leave, fussing about money being spent for caretakers. She then said, “Where are we going out to eat?” (She assumed each doctor’s visit was a social affair). She suggested
a local catfish restaurant. As I circled by the place it was not yet open. She did not know where else she wanted to go except not to a local buffet. It was a bright day. Just cool enough for a light jacket. I suggested two other restaurants and she chose the Chop House because she had not been there before. As we drove along she chatted about how she could go to the Home Depot. She thought their flowers and other plants would be good. Also she would have to arrange for someone to cut her yard and prepare the soil in her garden. At the restaurant she ordered meat loaf, broccoli (well done), her favorite vegetable, and creamed sweet potatoes. Even though they had catfish (her favorite) she decided to “get something different.” She ate well and as usual she got a “to go” box. She said, “gather up the fragments, let nothing be lost” as she placed a biscuit and a cup of honey butter into her box along with the remains of her entrée. As we left I took her for a short drive. She had not seen a new development near the house or how they had re-routed a road. She reminisced on the old days. “You all should prepare a picnic lunch and take blankets to the farm and sat out on the grass and have an old fashioned picnic then have a ball-game.”
When she returned home she stood between the two pineapple stands. She looked at her house and said, “y’all think I’m going to leave my house. I’ve worked
hard to prepare it for this time.” She made other sundry remarks concerning her ability to stay alone. She helped me unlock the storm door and we entered the house. She started to sit down in her chair, then turned and went into the bathroom. I proceeded to get her noon meds ready for her. After 2-3 minutes I felt the need to check on her. She was quiet. As I looked inside the bathroom she had slumped against the wall. Her pulse and breathing was normal, however she was not responsive. As I sought help I constantly assured her that everything was O.K. and help was on the way. As I wiped away the regurgitated food from her face with a cool cloth I softly spoke over her the name of Jesus. – I sensed then indeed my job was done and it was time for me to step out. Thank you Father for being there with me. Thank you for the gift of those last 27 1/2 hours. I had told my sister earlier in the week that after I had taken mother to the doctor’s I was going to step out and someone else would have to take over. Thank you God for taking over.
During the season, I hope you will take the time to think deeply on how precious you are, the treasure your life is and how you can take better care of that special gift.
You have a wonderful opportunity to impact your family and generations to come by re-writing the story to reveal a truer more complete picture of a loved one. Allow the joyous, celebratory side of their lives to be experienced and shared. By doing so you will share with others a wonderful gift and improve your own emotional health as well.
No part of this story may be
copied or reproduced without
permission from the publisher. Copyright © 2007 by InSpire, an imprint of DemmeHouse, Inc.
