Before I was a poet, I was a storyteller. More than a storyteller I was a collector of stories. There is power in stories.
As a kid I read. We talked about this a few weeks ago. For me it was an escape into adventure. At the heart of it was the story. The power of the story to capture my imagination and my heart.
One of my favorite books series growing up was called Dragonlance. It was the story of a band of friends that same together to conquer the forces of an evil god. The group of companions was diverse, all different races. There was action, romance, betrayal, loss. They met people along the way. Their stories mingled with others.
The original three book series quickly expanded to include books on what happened before and after and then onto some of the minor characters and what their stories were that led to the moment they met the companions.
The series is still going on today and measures well over one hundred books.
Much like this series of books, we are surrounded by stories—stories that have brought us to this point and there are tens if not hundreds or thousands of people that have played a part of our story—each with stories of their own.
Yesterday, I had the opportunity to listen as a group of people shared their stories.
A man talked of the anger he felt at how his life turned out, how one thing added to another until it began tearing at his family. A woman shared of betrayal and how it colored the way she looked at others. A teen told of the life she lived in the shadow of expectations people put on her because of who her father was.
In some way, I have been all these people. I can relate. Maybe not directly, but in some way.
Stories can bring us together.
In stories we realize how similar (yet unique) we all are.
The story we tell also says much about who we believe we are.
I could talk about story telling all day—and I could sit and listen to stories for weeks at a time if you let me.
It is one of the reasons we chose the pub in our name. It’s a place people gather and you can hear stories.
Today, let’s tell a few stories. Let’s hear who each other are.
But keep it brief—you get three sentences—and no Poet Punctuation (haha) or lack there of—Give us the brief synopsis of you…or maybe a defining moment.
Three sentences.
Just leave it in the comments—there is no link—or use this to inspire your piece for OpenLinkNight tomorrow—tomorrow we turn 100—100 weeks—&all those stories. Smiles.
~Brian
brian miller said:
pubs open! good afternoon everyone….hope you are having a great monday…
Laurie Kolp said:
Can they be run-on sentences? = )
Laurie Kolp said:
Just kidding…
brian miller said:
smiles….thats why i sad no poet punctuation…smiles. happy monday laurie
Laurie Kolp said:
Thanks. It is a good Monday here, hope it is for you as well.
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
What is the difference between poet punctuation and good grammar? Am I allowed a few commas?
brian miller said:
ha, yes you are….what i did not want is a page length poem or story in the comments…minimize it…you can see what most are doing…
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
thanks, done it!
Miriam E. said:
My dad killed himself when I was 19. I took care of my family through anger and grief, never asking why. It made me the person I am today.
(Caramon, Raistlin, Tika, Tasslehoff, Tanis… aaah, thanks for taking me back there… it’s been a while… great post, Brian – made me smile…)
brian miller said:
ha. i have been reading the series to my son…we are halfway through the first book…
wow that had to be pretty tough at 19 as well…and would def shape you…
Miriam E. said:
oh how awesome of you to share the stories with him… give him a good read of ‘The Dark Elf Trilogy’, too! 🙂 That and the Dragonlance books – I never forgot. Sooo good…
It did shape me – no one should ever live through the pain of losing a loved one in such a way, but I am grateful, too… it made me see the world in a completely different way.
brian miller said:
ooo drizzt was awesome…ha….
my wife lost her mom a few years back…even though we were older its def a defining moment in my life…one of the hard ones…
claudia said:
oh dang – that’s tough miriam – i lost my dad when i was seventeen…whole different story though..
Miriam E. said:
i am sorry to hear that…
yes, we do all have our stories, don’t we…
Laurie Kolp said:
I’m sorry you had to go through that, Miriam.
Miriam E. said:
thank you, Laurie – it’s okay now, i made my peace with it.
i don’t know why, but for some reason it was the first thing that popped into my mind when i read we should tell a little something about ourselves… it definitely was defining to me, so i wrote it down.
🙂
Laurie Kolp said:
I had a good friend commit suicide several years ago and it never goes away, does it? I can only imagine having a parent go that way.
Miriam E. said:
no it doesn’t go away, but it changes…
the ‘not being able to say goodbye’ and unanswered questions always remain…
LaTonya said:
Death is so much a part of my life, MIriam, and so much of it was self-inflicted or violent, avoidable. For me, it makes sense your loss would be your first thoughts. I know firsthand how it affects our lives, who we are.
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
What a sad story Miriam… I can understand it was tough.
Miriam E. said:
it was… but all things pass, and fade over time…
🙂
Margaret said:
I have a feeling an experience like that continues to shape you for the rest of your life. I can see why it popped into your head first thing – and I also imagine your feelings have changed as you age…
Miriam E. said:
they did, yes.
when i look back now, i can smile and miss him – there’s no anger left… and that is a good thing.
Grace said:
I admire you for overcoming this part of your life ~ You are a very brave woman ~
punnypalaver said:
It is wonderful that you have worked through your anger–I can only imagine how that moment has shaped and will continue to shape a life.
Victoria C. Slotto said:
Yes, those are the things that make us who we are…yours, for the better, I believe.
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
I was just reminded of the night I stood palace guard. Those two hours of complete boredom has been etched into my memory much more than any other happy recollections. And all I did was counting windows on the Grand Hotel.
I love telling brief stories, sometimes fiction, other times for real 🙂 Cheers and thank you for this wonderful pub.
claudia said:
oh heck…i think the world has not enough windows to count in such moments…when we visited copenhagen we saw the guards in front of the palace as well..it was freezing, freezing cold and they stood there…motionless..
Laurie Kolp said:
I’m glad it is a happy recollection!
Miriam E. said:
oh, that is quite a story compressed into 3 tiny sentences.
i can so picture this!
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
I love to tell stories… and write quite a lot of fiction. I actually started to write in 140 characters on twitter.
Today I wrote one ghastly one
The trapdoor was a good solution for rambunctious customers. The bartender just had to turn up the volume to mask their screams.
Miriam E. said:
hahaha oh my…
brian miller said:
ha. hopefully it doesnt take too many customer before they start getting the point…smiles.
Liz Rice-Sosne said:
OMG that is outrageously divine! Miriam you have my sympathies over the loss of your dad. Even though now it is OK. I relate.
Margaret said:
…but I somehow think your imagination kept you from being totally bored. I’m sure you were concocting stories about what was going on behind those windows … ?
brian miller said:
palace guard…and now i am wondering why i limited it to 3 lines…i wanna know more…used to work security a ways back…watched a lot full of trucks…way boring…
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
I wish I had… it would have been fun … I find it so amazing that I remember being bored in so vivid detail
punnypalaver said:
That reminds me of sitting in church counting the lights and ceiling tiles. What always bothered me is that I never counted the same amount from Sunday to Sunday.
brian miller said:
haha…been there, done that….i used to envision how i would fight off an invasion in the church…lol
punnypalaver said:
love that–that fits your voice as a poet well
Victoria C. Slotto said:
That would have driven me crazy, Bjorn.
grapeling said:
And now we can look forward to a story behind each window, right, Bjorn? I hope so…
Grace said:
I always knew you were a story teller Brian ~ Your poems are full of stories ~
I migrated to Canada 8 years ago with my family and had to start all over again, buy a house, build my career, etc. We have no close family ties on this part of the province but relied on friends and ultimately ourselves to rebuild our lives. It’s been tough and challenging considering I have lived a sheltered & comfortable life but I am stronger now and more appreciative of everything & everyone ~
Good afternoon everyone ~
claudia said:
oh wow grace – i really admire people who do this.. there are times i wanna move to another country and start all over again as well… just because i’m such a curious and restless person i guess… smiles
Margaret said:
Grace – I often think our moving away from family created a stronger bond between my husband and myself. Although, most our vacations are traveling back “home”. I think your strength, your adventurous spirit actually show up in your poetry.
Laurie Kolp said:
Hard at the time, I’m sure… but now I bet you’re family is stronger than ever.
Miriam E. said:
such a brave move, Grace – i wish i had that kind of courage.
brian miller said:
oh i imagine that shaped you a lot…having to start over and scraping to get by…it teaches you a lot…mine has been a slow migration back toward family…there have def been times though we stretched 2 pennies to make a meal…
Grace said:
When I look back at it now, I wonder how and what came over us ~ But you just have to burn your bridges and jump into it ~
Brian, those early years were tough for me and hubby (him specially when looking for a stable job) ~ Not so much for the children though because they adapted easily ~ Now things are better though, thank you 🙂
brian miller said:
yeah we went through them…a couple times….smiles…we never made a big deal of it with the kids…they know there are things we just cant do…monetarily but…we make d0
punnypalaver said:
It gets easier, right? We’ve just moved 9 hours away from family and good friends. Starting over is just not easy–military families in the US do it so frequently and so well. I want to know their secret!
Grace said:
Yes, it does ~ Thank you ~
Victoria C. Slotto said:
It’s a scary thing to go someplace where you know no one. Courageous, Grace.
grapeling said:
You exhibit courage, fortitude, and, well – Grace. 🙂 ~ M
Grace said:
Thank you Michael ~ 🙂
claudia said:
smiles.. i love stories… if i visit an exhibition, i’m sometimes more fascinated by the story of the artist than by their paintings…smiles
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
I know.. your storytelling amaze me..
Margaret said:
I made ample use of parentheses 🙂 It will be fun to learn about who the poets are who make up the dVerse “Lounge”. Thanks, Brian. I too spent hours reading as a child and have given this “gift” to each of my children.
I am a mother of six children, a wife, beyond that sometimes it seems I’ve become “invisible”; but that’s a sacrifice I would do a hundred times over. A few years ago I hesitantly started pursuing interests I never pursued as a teenager due to a lack of confidence/self-esteem as a child (such fears still exist, but I have been able to move past them for the most part) I am lucky to actively share various interests with my family: I own and share a horse with two of my girls, working on develop my artistic skills and hope to attend a college art class this fall (my two oldest children are majoring in college in drama and set design), and my newest passion, poetry (in which I have been greatly influenced by my eldest son).
Laurie Kolp said:
I know what you mean by invisible… glad you’re venturing out to new things.
brian miller said:
i love your pics of your daughters and horses margaret…its cool you have that connection with them…and that your son is writing poetry…i remember when you sent me one of his poems years back @ one stop…smiles…
Margaret said:
Recently at the Toad’s site I had to share a favorite poet. I wanted to share my son!! as his poetry touches my heart like no other… But I didn’t ;P (needed to stretch MY wings a bit 🙂 Thanks for the comment about the photos 😉
Laurie Kolp said:
Aww…
bostonpoetry said:
Do you have the link for that Margaret? I’d love to read it. Thanks for sharing your story… I can relate to the invisibility thing sometimes. -Mike
Margaret said:
A link to my son’s poetry? or the poet I DID share?
bostonpoetry said:
Your son’s poetry. 🙂
Margaret said:
This is one of my favorites:
http://margaretbednar365.blogspot.com/2013/04/reflections-of-sea-by-william-bednar.html
He has easily over 100. He is an old soul, poetry is like breathing, like singing. (He is in college for drama – imagine that 🙂 Thank you for asking. I hope you enjoy it.
bostonpoetry said:
Thanks!
Miriam E. said:
invisible – that resonates… in a warm way.
it is great to see you’re ‘finding’ yourself again… may the artist in you spread her wings…
🙂
punnypalaver said:
I can so relate to the feeling of invisibility. I love that you are exploring many creative outlets especially ones that you can share with your children.
Grace said:
Funny but it was my son too who encouraged me to try poetry and blogging ~ I think its great that you are now pursuing your own passion and enrolling in subjects that you like ~
Don’t ever think you are invisible Margaret as your support as a mother is very important. And I love your pictures of the girls and the horses ~
Margaret said:
I have a feeling we as parents learn MUCH more from our children than they do from us.
brian miller said:
second that….
punnypalaver said:
Yes!
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
I agree! Specially techy, geeky things!
Victoria C. Slotto said:
We are so glad you are exploring that creative passion of yours! But the most wonderful creation–that family.
grapeling said:
Cool that your kids provide inspiration. Mine do, too – looks like many of us are lucky that way.
LaTonya said:
Margaret, I’m new to the community so I am so loving the discussion. I have never felt invisible in the way I hear so many women describe. Do know that being visible has it’s own challenges. I am a firstborn. From the beginning, a hero child who felt the weight of expectation and responsibility. I am so grateful for my adult years when I had the choice to define my own life and expectations.
Margaret said:
Not so much invisible as … putting my interests out of reach for a number of years. Of course, my priority is my children… so it was/is just a stage of life… I love the description of yourself as “hero child”. Yes, my firstborn has a bit of that too 🙂
brian miller said:
three railroad track kids dropping fireworks on our head—building an addition on a 2 bedroom house for a family of five. a Nuisance or—&when they told me each night what happens to them—i was never the same.
ha. breaking my own rule…but distilled down as far as i could…a defining moment when i was no longer comfortable…
Laurie Kolp said:
Wow. I’m confused…
Margaret said:
We had a rr track behind our 10 acre home – a railroad we played on all the time and a bridge that fascinated us. I thought it huge growing up, but recently on a trip home stood under it and it was so small! But the memories… we did such crazy things, it’s amazing we survived. sigh. The reference above to “they told me each night what happens to them”… must be related in some part with what led you to what you do now.. ?
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
It’s really hard to tell stories in 3 sentenses… as a matter of fact it was a trifecta writing challenge during the weekend.
brian miller said:
it does margaret…i was in harlan ky on a relief trip…and these 3 kids kept bombing us…i was living a pretty comfortable corporate life…and it was right after that i quit and went into ministry and a life of service…the kids were abused on a regular basis and the system would do nothing there as it was ‘life’…tore me up…
LaTonya said:
why were your children abused? Can I get some background story? Didn’t know you were a minister. way cool.
Miriam E. said:
oh geeze, Brian – that is a tough, painful one to remember.
glad you got something good out of it though – you changed your life… and i am sure your decision has made a huge difference for the life of others.
punnypalaver said:
Brian, I SO admire your work. As a pastor’s wife, I have run across a few tragic incidents and the children’s and wives’ stories have never left me. I couldn’t find a way to lighten the burden. You must be a strong person to be able to care and continue caring despite the effect it has on your own psyche.
brian miller said:
thank you…smiles…its rewarding..i love kids…i am actually happier being out of ministry as there is a bit more freedom and its taken me into places where hurt people are that the church would never go…
punnypalaver said:
Sad but true–often the church cannot or does not reach those most broken
brian miller said:
dont get me wrong, church has its place…it just does not reach beyond its comfort zone often…and its a messy place for sure…seen some nasty stuff in the projects…but i was also accepted or at least tolerated because i was there over months and months…no just a quick hit…
punnypalaver said:
Do you listen to Amos Lee? Street Corner Preacher Man?
brian miller said:
no. will look him up though…
punnypalaver said:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=no7MqbKbJQk Here he is with the song I was thinking of–it’s actually just “Street Corner Preacher”
Victoria C. Slotto said:
Have you ever thought about writing memoir?
brian miller said:
its funny…before poetry i wrote short memoir pieces mostly….one day maybe,,,,smiles.
punnypalaver said:
You def. should!
Victoria C. Slotto said:
I’ll be the first to buy it!
grapeling said:
Man, I put pennies on the railroad tracks to get squashed. Pretty f’in tame. Brian, I’m suspecting there’s a tale or two stashed away in that noggin of yours.
brian miller said:
i grew up by the tracks…used to fall asleep to their song….got a few stories…smiles.
grapeling said:
The tracks ran past the foghorn and through the cemetery. At night, pine and cypress would drip with fog, and it didn’t matter, bundled or not, walking to my friend Mike’s house past the headstones, listening to the low of the horn, goosebumps would line up like regiments from temples all the way down both arms.
punnypalaver said:
beautiful description–
brian miller said:
dude…i grew up with a cemetary in the back yard too…used to go there to write songs….
Laurie Kolp said:
I am a shadow child of a very controlling, manipulative mother; but have come to the realization that I need to cherish the time I have left with her. I almost died 17 years ago and spent 10 days in the hospital going through a life-changing experience. I’m married now with 3 kids (14,12,10), taught school for 12 years but quit after the birth of my second.
Margaret said:
I have a father… let’s just say “isn’t easy”. I have yet to take your attitude to heart, to cherish the time I have left. I often think of this, and it may someday be too late… but sadly, I think I’m ok with this… I admire your opening your heart and taking a(nother) chance.
Laurie Kolp said:
It’s really hard to do sometimes… I do love my mother, just don’t always like her. We live in the same city now which adds to the dilemma. I wouldn’t say I’m that great a daughter… too many bad years, hurtful things from the past. And my dad drank alcoholically for years. It was not a good childhood.
Margaret said:
Well. The cycle CAN be broken. That is what truly counts now – that your children need NEVER experience it.
brian miller said:
amen to that margaret….
Laurie Kolp said:
Exactly.
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
To almot die must be lifechanging… and redifining yourself
Miriam E. said:
wow, Laurie. that is really tough…
so happy you’re still with us!
brian miller said:
i am glad you lived through it laurie…your story def can touch lives…and think of the difference it makes in the lives of those kids…
and it can be quite humbling what you are going through with your mom…
Laurie Kolp said:
I’m truly grateful!
janehewey said:
I would like to read, in more detail, the story of your experience 17 years ago when and if you are ready to share it, Laurie. Good for you in your embracing of poetry so whole-heartedly. You seem born to it.
punnypalaver said:
I also quit work after my second child. It’s wonderful to be able to stay home. I imagine a near-death experience teaches one to really live.
Grace said:
Laurie, that must be pretty tough ~ I can’t imagine how you are coping, but I hope the healing process will come to both of you ~
Victoria C. Slotto said:
Laurie, it took me so much longer to resolve and accept the things you’ve already come to realize. Bravo, girl. And facing a life-threatening situation does change your perspective, doesn’t it. Every day.
Laurie Kolp said:
Yes, it does. Thanks, Victoria.
grapeling said:
In the pub light and out of the shadows now, Laurie.
Laurie Kolp said:
= )
LaTonya said:
My mother was the dominant, force to be recokoned with in our family. I love my mother. As a child and teen, we couldn’t relate. through my adult years, our relationship grew. My mother changed some but things got better for me when I changed. My mother didn’t become what I wanted or needed. Can’t explain it fully here. My mother is still difficult in some ways but I better understand her and she has changed enough that we could love each other more. I’m grateful because I know many mothers and daughters can’t get there. My eldest is not there with me. My own experiences though give me hope we’ll come full circle, too.
Laurie Kolp said:
Yes, the only one we can change is ourself… and I do believe in full circle.
Kelvin S.M. said:
I am partially boiled offspring of nature. Pressed deep over salted earth — naked & still. Wrapped in plain sight along with tasty sauce not for own pleasure but for the Gods.
…ah, let the Gods do the garnishing & hopefully it fits to the sauce of my Master Chef. smiles…
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
Your storytelling is very poetic… would love to see you write fiction at one time…
Margaret said:
Hmm. You sound like a poet. All herbs and spices, fresh, you are 🙂
brian miller said:
wrapped in plain sight with tasty sauce….ha…i like that kelvin…
Laurie Kolp said:
A true poet, you are!
claudia said:
oh kelvin, this makes me smile…yes…let the gods do the garnishing..smiles
Miriam E. said:
ha… ‘partially boiled’… aren’t we all 🙂
punnypalaver said:
Kelvin–poetic–love the cooking metaphor. You are an exquisite entree!
Grace said:
How poetic Kelvin ~ Smiles ~
Victoria C. Slotto said:
I’d have to say the gods are doing quite well, Kelvin.
LaTonya said:
like the poetry but more interested in you allowing yourself to be naked. Nikki Giovanni wrote once that most people are afraid to truly be naked. 🙂
Martin Shone said:
I read (give or take school books in lessons) my first book when I was 18, I bought James Clavell’s Shogun while in the forces, and I still have it at 51. My head has been split open 7 times, I suffer from headaches (including the one I have now). While on guard in the forces, the *** (not sure I’m allowed to fill in the asterix, I think you know who it is though) blew a church up in front of me and I got shot in the eye by an arrow while playing Cowboys and Indians as a kid.
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
Wow.. much more exciting life than most …
Martin Shone said:
Not exciting having my head split open, though 🙂
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
Of course not … 🙂
brian miller said:
dang on the arrow man…i took a spear through the shin as a kid… but yikes…and dang on the chuch too….pretty cool on still having the book as well….ha. its a good one to keep…
Martin Shone said:
It is yes, I went on to collect all his writings 🙂
brian miller said:
have them on my shelf as well…
Martin Shone said:
wonderful 🙂
Margaret said:
headaches. I suppose they teach you to grab and enjoy life between the suffering… as I’ve had a few but know how to divert them when I see them coming. It sounds life can at times be a bit TOO adventurous!
Martin Shone said:
Yes I learn to live with the headaches, except the bad ones 😦
Laurie Kolp said:
True battle scars, huh? I hate headaches, is there anything you do about that?
Martin Shone said:
No not really, they come they go and they come back 🙂
claudia said:
oh heck martin… this is really tough… the youngest brother of my mom died when they were playing as kids with the guns and trunks the army left in their village..
Martin Shone said:
It’s not so tough really, Claudia, not as hard as your story here.
Margaret said:
Claudia – that is just … so…. I don’t have words.
Miriam E. said:
Martin, that definitely is a tough story to tell.
I hope you can find some relief for your pain – I am sorry you suffer.
Martin Shone said:
Thanks Miriam, but I’ve always had headaches, whether or not they relate to the head splits or just because they are there, but there are worse things than headaches… like not being able to write now that would be tough
Miriam E. said:
i am glad all the head-splitting did nothing to your beautiful, poetic voice.
Martin Shone said:
Well there is another tale to tell though… again whether this relates to the head spilts or not but I am blind in my mind… When I close my eyes I see nothing at all in my thoughts, no pictures, colours or words, just a dark blackness, just nothing at all.
Miriam E. said:
i am so sorry to hear that – i hope you will once again conquer these thoughts and make them yours
Martin Shone said:
Thanks but I’ve been like this all my life as far as I can remember, not to worry eh 🙂
punnypalaver said:
Your life is like a promo for an action film–very exciting!
Grace said:
Your life is like a movie ~ I am sorry about the health issues ~
Victoria C. Slotto said:
Here’s another memoir waiting to be written. Hope that headache is gone by now.
grapeling said:
Martin, I doubt if this would help your headaches or mind-blindness, but there is an LA based chef called the “Beeroness” who recently published a recipe for “Chocolate Stout Cheesecake Fudgesicle” – google it, didn’t want to post it here. It contains Guinness. And it’s cheesecake. And it’s a fudgesicle. Your poem ‘Song thrush’ made me think of it. Cheers ~ M
Martin Shone said:
That looks very, very nice 🙂
claudia said:
my dad was drinking and i felt never safe
as a teenager my life was getting out of control and i found refuge in books and dreams and in doing all kind of stupid things to proof that i don’t need anyone.
my husband says i’m still out of control…smiles
Laurie Kolp said:
I can so relate, Claudia. Our childhood never really leaves us does it?
Kelvin S.M. said:
…same issues with dad… & i hate it… when he got drunk.. he completely. turns to someone i don’t know who….
Margaret said:
The older I get, the more I cherish what an amazing dad my husband is. I know, from experience that young women possess much more self-confidence and emotional strength when they have a dad who spends time with them and nurtures them. Not feeling safe as a child… that is something one never gets back. Some self-destruct. I’m glad you went the other route!
Miriam E. said:
my dad was an alcoholic, too – it can be real tough.
heh, you’re still out of control, hm? one more factor that makes you so endearing. 🙂
brian miller said:
your story breaks my heart a bit claudia…but if it took it to birth the you we know…i guess it was worth it…
did plenty of stupid stuff as a kid trying to prove/find myself…i didnt fit most molds growing up…small…easy target…
Martin Shone said:
Yes mine drank too, not really an alcoholic though… he left home when I was 6.
punnypalaver said:
Claudia, you are a beautiful soul.
Grace said:
Claudia, that must have been tough ~
Victoria C. Slotto said:
I suspect many of us have had experiences with alcoholic parents…it seems to bring out poetic sensibilities.
LaTonya said:
And how many of the great artists we love lived through some tragedy, mental illness or some other horrid circumstance?
grapeling said:
For some reason I picture you in a library surrounded by a book fort, while some ne’er-do-well boy tries to gain your attention. And sometimes, you ignored him.
LaTonya said:
Ah, still waiting to hear the story of a functional family. I know they exist. What I hear most often though is the dysfunction and how many of us survive and actually thrive. My family was loving and dysfunctional. I would win no parent awards but I learned over the years I am a good person.
My father is an alcoholic. I’m 21 years clean and sober.
Madeleine Begun Kane said:
I’m an oboist, turned lawyer, turned humor columnist, turned limerick loon.
What will I do next? You (and I) must stay tuned.
Martin Shone said:
I’ve always wanted to play the violin but as I can’t read music I don’t think it’ll ever happen 🙂
brian miller said:
haha can relate in that i have held quite a few positions…pretty cool journey…lawyer eh? that is the one that jumps out at me in the list…smiles…
Laurie Kolp said:
Can’t wait!
punnypalaver said:
I would love to hear you play–the oboe and cello are my two favorite instruments!
Grace said:
Good one Madeleine ~
Victoria C. Slotto said:
I think you ought to post some of your music….accompany a Limerick!
punnypalaver said:
Yes! I second Victoria’s suggestion!
Margaret said:
The best lawyers DO have artistic talent: in my opinion, they must be fine actors and storytellers.
Margaret said:
This was in response to Madeleine Kane’s post)
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
My life-changing experience was living in Seychelles for two years before retiring. Our time was divided between ill-paid but worthwhile and interesting work, enjoying time in, on and under the beautiful Indian Ocean, playing highly competitive bridge on some gorgeous verandas and helping to found the national choir. Unforgettable prelude to moving to France.
Martin Shone said:
Sounds wonderful 🙂
brian miller said:
founding the national choir…now there is an accomplishment….and sounds like i would not want to mess with you at bridge…smiles….france…ah, now that would be fun….smiles.
punnypalaver said:
yes, I’d like to see her team up with my mom–bet they would be unbeatable! 🙂
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
it was.
Laurie Kolp said:
Sounds wonderful, as does living in France.
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
it was and it is!
punnypalaver said:
Your life sounds like the good parts of a Fitzgerald novel. 🙂
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
🙂 I wish.
Victoria C. Slotto said:
Vive la Viv….just couldn’t resist that!
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
🙂
grapeling said:
Fantastique! A choir by the sea, singing over the surf.
http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com said:
Literally, our first performance, Christmas music in an open-fronted beachside hotel. Christmas is in the rainy season, the palm trees were swaying violently and the surf was crashing on the shore. We could have done with a few more voices at that point!
Margaret said:
Sounds like a wonderful way to approach retirment!
Victoria C. Slotto said:
(I enjoy knowing more about all of you who have shared and can see the influence of life on poetry. Much of what I could say you may have heard already for that very reason. So here’s a few odd things).
Because of my life as a nun I have lived in many parts of the USA and in France.
I was 47 years old when I married for the first (and last) time to a man four years younger than I who had never been married–ergo, no children.
I am addicted to learning new things even though my aging memory doesn’t always retain them. :0)
brian miller said:
i think life as a nun is rather fascinating victoria…there was a time i wanted to run off and be a monk…pretty cool on learning new things even if its not retained…smiles…i dig experiences mostly…love finding something new to try or survive…smiles…
Victoria C. Slotto said:
I think you’d be a great monk! Certainly would liven things up.
Laurie Kolp said:
Fascinating, Victoria.
punnypalaver said:
I agree with Laurie–absolutely fascinating.
Grace said:
Interesting to know Victoria ~ Thank you ~
grapeling said:
Victoria, the Dominican Order at my grammar school was given instructions to abandon the habit and take up civilian clothes (in the early 70’s). The nuns had no budget. Sister Geraldine, the principal, took to wearing a pink and a grey suit outfit on alternating days, which did not quite suit her ample figure. But she was an excellent instructor, encouraging, if strict. I liked the nuns, and hadn’t thought of them in years. Thank you for the pleasant reminder. ~ M
Victoria C. Slotto said:
Smiles.
Margaret said:
A nun’s life is of giving 24/7. I know my two “nun” teachers at Catholic high school were strict, kind, and devoted. I think they prayed for all of us kids in their class –
LaTonya said:
I attended a Catholic college. Dr. John’s was amazing. I’m not Cahtholic so she was my first encounter with nuns. Loved her. She turned me on to feminism, women studies. Oh, she lit a fire in me. She is so much of who I wanted to be.
brian miller said:
keep them coming…i am going offline for a bit to get dinner with the fam and we are under a tornado watch til 10 pm as well so…will be back as i can as its been cool to see behind the veil a bit…smiles.
Laurie Kolp said:
Stay safe. I’ll be off for awhile, too.
brian miller said:
got word tonight we might be in for another derecho this week…insane!
Laurie Kolp said:
Oh, no! I hope not.
punnypalaver said:
OK I’ll play.
My three defining moments: Small town girl from Alabama lived in Paris for a year ostensibly learning French for grad school; instead she learned which metro stops were most profitable for street musicians who could only play a few Indigo Girl songs, which days her favorite art museums were open, and that being a singing waitress was LOTS harder than it looked. Later, the college English professor had a summer fling and found herself unhappily married and the mother of a sweet, beautiful child with multiple disabilities. And now, remarried to a pastor, she is the mother of three sons–the younger two with imaginations she could have never even dreamed of having–the oldest with a generous heart and her biggest fan–and a husband who is patiently trying to figure her out.
brian miller said:
singing waiters and street musician…now that sounds really cool….ha on patient husbands as well…and smiling at the kids imagination….my oldest def has that as well….cool story…some intriguing turns in life…
punnypalaver said:
Yes, I feel as if I have lived several lives. . you know, more than turns, almost completely different personalities
Victoria C. Slotto said:
What a fun story. I lived in Paris for a few months to improve my French at Alliance Francais before moving to Brittany, then the Jura. Quite an experience, those Metros.
punnypalaver said:
Yes, the Alliance Francais, several of my fellow waiters/waitresses studied there. My favorite memory was when I kept singing Closer to Fine so many times that a peanut vendor throw a bag of nuts and me,shouting, “You are Fi-i-i-i-i-ine!” and packed up his table and left. 🙂 Jura Mountains or Jura, Scotland?
Grace said:
That is a cool story ~ Your children are a gift ~
punnypalaver said:
Thanks, Grace. They are indeed–all three in very different ways.
grapeling said:
The scent of fresh-baked bread at 7 am in the local boulangerie…
punnypalaver said:
Yes, I get nostalgic whenever I eat pain au chocolat
brian miller said:
dude…its too late for me to get hungry smelling imaginary bread….
grapeling said:
I just had a burrito but am still salivating at that pain au chocolat.
Margaret said:
From a small town Alabama to Paris! That is quite an adventure in and of itself. Looks like you’ve landed in a fine place! 🙂
punnypalaver said:
Yes–went from never having traveled out of The South to traversing unknown lands from Greece to Ireland–but yes, I have landed. I do hope to take my boys to see some of the life-changing sights I experienced that definitive year.
Rowan Taw said:
Too many stories to narrow down to three sentences. However, today’s mood has me summing myself up in one sentence (but I might change my mind tomorrow):
“I’m an insatiably curious, contrarian conformist, who loves paradox!”
Grace said:
That is an interesting way to describe yourself ~
punnypalaver said:
Makes sense–
brian miller said:
haha i like me a little paradox as well….smiles…and curiousity is good too…smiles…
Margaret said:
so… you conform after a lot of stubborn questioning and complaining? 🙂
Rowan Taw said:
Or they conform to me! 😊
brian miller said:
ha
grapeling said:
As a Catholic school third grade mixed-race boy enduring a bad bowl haircut given by my father, I was told I looked like a little Korean girl by a boy named Joey with deep red hair. Later, another classmate, Jay, whose father was in the Navy, and who sailed and was in the popular crowd, told me to act my age, not my IQ, as I prepared to graduate prep school at age 16 and attend Berkeley in Mechanical Engineering. I learned to become anonymous so as to not attract attention, but found it doesn’t really work that way.
Grace said:
That’s pretty tough Michael ~ I now know what it means to be discriminated but you know what, you learn to be tough and resilient ~ And I find that investing in one’s (continuing) education will always serve you well ~ Good to see you here, this is our pub talk 🙂
grapeling said:
It’s good to set on a barstool for a while. Thanks for the welcoming, Grace – I very much appreciate it.
brian miller said:
grace is a cool cat like that…we do this a couple times a month…the topics change but we alway get to know what makes each other tick a bit more…smiles….the people behind the poems…
grapeling said:
Wait, these are people? I thought we were all just bots in the Matrix? That drink beer and get hungry at imaginary bread in Paris.
punnypalaver said:
My middle son is enduring bullying at school. I worry so about the effect it will have on him now and later. But it sounds like you rose above it and certainly surpassed those taunters.
grapeling said:
My mom said to tell them, “Beware the Yellow Peril.”
Needless to say, I ignored that little bit of advice, since I surmised it would introduce me to fists rather than just words. Bullying sucks. Kids can torment quite effectively, as my poor younger brother can attest.
punnypalaver said:
Love your mother’s advice. My son tells me what they are saying but tries to act as if he is not bothered by it. I think that bothers me the worst. It seems like it would be good for him to vent.
grapeling said:
In a way, fake it til you make it – his acting as if can lead him to actually incorporate that positive (ish) attitude, much the way we incorporate the negative. He may indeed vent, to – just not to you.
punnypalaver said:
Good point–I’ll try not to worry quite so much.
brian miller said:
i will empathize with the haircut…had that as a young boy…being a small guy at a young age…i just became scarier than the bullies to keep them away…bullying sucks…my son faced a bit last year but i nipped that in the bud pretty quick…
grapeling said:
Let me guess, you showed up with a mohawk and smiled *real* long with lots of teeth. How did that Teddy Roosevelt line go?
Margaret said:
It is so hard being a child. I home-schooled my first three up until the third grade. We travelled and they got to see their dad a lot more as his work hours are crazy. We had a blast, learned SO much and by the time the entered school, not only where they (and still are) best friends but they were leaders. My next three did not home school BUT they had three older siblings to look up to and emulate. It paid off in spades. I, on the other hand, would get so embarrassed in school (various reason) I would hold my breath! It’s funny now, but low-self esteem is a terrible thing. So are bad “home” hair cuts. I had a few in my day and got mistaken for a boy a few times… in 7th grade!
grapeling said:
Oy vey, Margaret. There was this one girl that both the girls and boys picked on. It gets set early, and – well, ashamedly, I did as well, I suppose to curry favor among the cool kids. As if that ever worked. Glad to hear you did a solid job with your kids. I know several home-schooled kids – some it works great with. Others are, well, not socialized well. But that holds true for reg-ed schooled kids too, so I don’t view it as evidence that home-schooling doesn’t work.
Walt Wojtanik said:
A musician trapped in a poet’s body. Husband of one, father of two; happiest working in wood, oils and the kitchen. Loves dogs, sports, nature, The Beatles and my La-Z-Boy (if I ever slow down enough to sit in it)!
brian miller said:
ha. i imagine the kids keep you pretty busy…how old?
my father works in wood…building…crafting…
i like me some beatles as well…smiles.
Walt Wojtanik said:
Yes, the “kids” keep me on my toes Brian, after marrying one off Memorial Weekend and a twenty year old going on 42. The wood relaxes and the Beatles are… well, they’re the Beatles. Limiting to three sentences lends oneself to the Reader’s Digest condensed life! 😉
Margaret said:
Well, a musician trapped in a poet’s body sound perfect! 🙂
grapeling said:
I can only play the radio, so am glad my two sons play music, and am not-so-secretly envious of those who play, and who are good with tools, like woodworkers.
Glenn Buttkus said:
My mother died when I was 22. My stepfather put his head in the booze to salve the pain; mother was 39. One night Art & I went out to dinner, ordered two steaks. In the middle of the meal, I looked over at a pretty girl, and heard an odd squishy sound. Art had passed out, and his face was in his plate, up to his ears in mashed potatoes & gravy. Had to sit him up, clean him up, pay the damned check, and drive him home. He remembered nothing the next day.
brian miller said:
Art was your step father?
odd squishy noise…yipes…good on you for cleaning it up…imagine it pretty hard for him to lose the one he loved…and for you a mom…
Margaret said:
And so you became the head of the family, in some respects. My oldest daughter has a friend whose role is similar. Dad long gone (divorce) and her mother is a bit … well, off. This girl balances it all, and still respects her mother. I often say she is a modern day hero.
Margaret said:
(In reply to Glenn above)
brian miller said:
alright poets…its been fun…but i need some beauty sleep…maybe lots of it…smiles…and we have OLN 100 tomorrow so the rest could help….see you in the morning…
claudia said:
good morning… just read through all the entries and so cool to get to know you a bit better… love to learn about your stories..wow.. and thanks for being so open as well…
brian miller said:
good morning claudia…smiles…
gardenlilie said:
Late here but I worked today! I wrote out three sentences but not defining moments. Hmm. I have the ability to see all sides, feel empathy for those wronged, feel pain for the weak like the very young and very old.
Therefore I love children in all their glory, their beauty, their love and discoveries; I feel connected with them.
Navy Bleu is my favorite color but fuchsia and green(pink n green, red n green) too; color is excitement, I love life and all it’s fun, be it sports, music, cooking and now I’ve discovered writing and not sure when I’ll stop.
Defining things … Pearl, John, husband , kids, nurse, travel but probably graduating nursing school was a big moment for me … That spelled freedom!
Thanks off to bed.
brian miller said:
i have similar empathy as well…its a blessing and a curse at times to feel so much…
cool on graduating nursing school as well…i am sure that empathy helps in that role too…
Akila said:
Lot of stories here. We all have one and many! Well, right now I am filled with my three year old. There cant be a day without a story when a three yr old is on prowl! 🙂 Guess, I am the last one here, thanks to the time zones!
brian miller said:
they do have a way of taking over our lives dont they…three is a fun age too….i will say at 9 and 11…they dont slow down…smiles….and yes, they are full over stories…smiles….
MarinaSofia said:
It has been riveting getting to know you from a different perspective, what a good idea, Brian! You are a fascinating bunch, all of you. Here’s my take:
Forever late to the party despite the best intentions, as I try to juggle family, business, travelling and passion. My middle name is adaptable (9 countries, 3 families, lost count of number of careers). But in the turmoil does my own voice and innermost desire get a little lost?
brian miller said:
juggling can be hard for sure….between work, grad school and family…then online life, i feel that burn often…smiles…you are well travelled too….9 countries…that is awesome…
emangster00 said:
When I think about it, it’s hard to tell a story when there’s no true story to tell.
But today I’ve learnt threee things i didn’t know about myself until now.
As it turns out, Iam actually disease-ridden with: ADHD, BDD, BP and Severe Depression. Life is bliss.
brian miller said:
and you just learned these today?
the fact that life is bliss is the last thing you say
says as much as 3 sentences would…
rosross said:
don’t live as a label. You are your own unique Self experiencing a variety of emotional, physiological and psychological moments for very good reasons even if you do not know what those reasons might be. Life within, as it is without, is an adventure.
brian miller said:
that is good advice ros…
LaTonya said:
Brian I love this post. I am storyteller like you. I love reading niche fiction: microfiction, short fiction. I love short form writing period. What you’re asking us today is as natural as breathing. I’ve been away with life stuff and this is an affirming, exhale moment for me. When I initially read you, I liked you. So I don’t know you but at my age, I know my gut and I knew you were good people. Thank you.
brian miller said:
why thank you…you made me smile this morning…enjoy the exhale yourself as well…
LaTonya said:
I was born in during a pivotal, defining period in our history, the civil rights movement, a period that indelibly shaped and directed my life mission: to give all I am to, to live in such a way that when I die someone in this world will be glad that I had lived in it. I am a reader, writer, community activist, veghead,Quaker passionate about books, food, love, health and fitness, music and art. I am woman in my middle years, having fell stupid in love after the babies and divorces.
brian miller said:
love the heart in this…to live in so that one might be glad you lived…that is very cool…and full of compassion…and hey, stupid in love, even if it comes later is not bad eh? smiles.
Liz Rice-Sosne said:
Brian this is quite simply an incredible post! Thank you friend!
I walked into the cloak room of my mother’s place of employment. I was 9 years old. It was 1955. I went through everyones jackets. I found $1000 in one jacket. I took it. I reminded my mother of this event shortly before her death in February of 2000. You do the math. She couldn’t face it after all of these years and feigned shock over the phone. Personal change was never her strong suit. I don’t think that it was the theft that still bothered her. No, it was the mention of a period of time when she actually worked for a living.
MarinaSofia said:
What a nice story – OK, maybe not quite sticking to the 3 sentence rule, but your sentences were quite short, so it does count, right, Brian?
brian miller said:
very interesting story liz…$1000….what did you do with $1000 at age 9?
ha that it was more the shock of her working….
marina, you know me & rules…smiles…she stuck to the spirit of making it short…
Liz Rice-Sosne said:
Thanks MarinaSofia. Liz
Cressida de Nova said:
My views on everything have never been populist thus the reason I keep them to myself mainly . In the past I have usually hidden them because of criticism and attacks. I am no longer doing this because I don’t think it is good for me.My life has been unusual.Upbringing defines all of us. Do I wish I had had a different one? No. That in my opinion makes me one of the lucky ones.
brian miller said:
yes it does make you one of the lucky ones…
& it is not good to just accept the party line…or to feel you have to keep your thoughts hidden…
Misky said:
Brief Revelations and Post Traumatic Responses
I remember as a small girl that my father, waking in the middle of an afternoon nap, would roll off the sofa and squish himself flat beneath it whenever a seaplane flew in low to land on the lake. I thought it was a game, like building a tent between chairs with a bed sheet, so I’d roll under there with him and I’d hold on to his arm. I remember that I asked if he was cold because he always shivered fiercely when he was down there under the sofa.
brian miller said:
wow…what a powerful and tangible memory…hard stuff the things we have to deal with after you know…also in how we as kids process these things….
Stephanie said:
My mother kept me in her teeth. I held my zen-like father as he took his last breaths. I have a rare illness; I am not an illness, and I stumbled on my soulmate to experience what is joy.
brian miller said:
wow….my mom held me in her teeth…and the realization you are not an illness….you def have a powerful story there….glad you found your soul mate…that is def cool…smiles.
Stephanie said:
“Definitely cool,” yep, just how I’d say it. :grins: Thanks Brian.
Akila said:
Cultural and geographical diversity stretching to varied thoughts, perceptions, distinctly called individuality; carrying along these differences onto a common forum, where they become minuscule parts of our existence in a poetic world.
Now this reads like a three line prelude to a story. 🙂
M. J. Joachim said:
Just finished writing a poem about this for tonight’s Open Link 100. Looking forward to hopping with everyone again this week:)
ninotaziz said:
I am a storyteller, poet since young and champion Malay legends – the latter is overtaking my life slowly. My soulmate is my muse, and my daughters complete me.
And I read, and read and read.
(Muaddib, Raistlin and Heathcliff are my favorite enigmas.)
brian miller said:
smiles…was hoping you saw this…
ninotaziz said:
Hi Brian. I am in Indonesia. And just visited the Borobodur yesterday. Where to tell stories, kings built tthis temple and decorated its walls with the Jataka tales, Buddhist teachings and palace lores.
Amazing.
brian miller said:
oh wow…i wanna see it…pictures?
tell me more?