The One Question That Tells You All You Need to Know (about yourself)

The words have been handed down from antiquity — Know thyself.

I write about the past because I think seeds planted yesterday bear the richest fruit for today when it comes to storytelling, if not life itself. Along those lines, I’ve had the privilege of researching and writing family histories and life stories for several clients over the years. Fair to say, if there’s a favorite niche to my writing, that would be it — recording people’s stories and discovering (recovering?) legacies of their past.

It began when I found my father’s diaries boxed up in the attic years after he had passed away. In reading thirty years of his memories, the narrative story of his life and my life took form, and I ended up writing a book about his life. In the process I learned so much more about him (but oh, the questions I wish even now I could ask).

I was hooked on non-fiction storytelling after that.

“God gives you the best plots.” — Norman Mailer

 

It’s been my experience that one simple question, more than any other, can unlock the doors to our past, and maybe, just maybe, point us in the direction we should be going.

Two years ago a friend commissioned me to write the life story of her parents — both of whom were in their late eighties and had been married for over fifty years. While they were willing to go along with the project, I was told they were both reticent to talk about themselves. Can’t say I blame them. If my wife and I had been in their shoes I would have said the same thing: ‘You want to write a book — about us?’

The closer we got to starting on their memoir, the more I started thinking — where do I start trying to learn about their past? More specifically, what would be my first question to them once I turned on the tape recorder and set it down on the kitchen table in front of them? 

The night before we were to meet, I started writing down what I thought were some good probing questions, but it didn’t take long before that started making me uncomfortable. And if I felt that way already, how would these questions make them feel?

There had to be some way to gently start excavating their past. They must have had some important lessons and stories to impart. After all, they had successfully raised a fine family and stayed married for over fifty years. 

How is such a thing even possible? I said to myself, only somewhat tongue-in-cheek. How can it be that two people can come together, and stay together, for that long?

Then it hit me, and I started crossing off the questions on my list. All save one.

The First Interview

The greetings were sincere and the pleasantries brief but warm while we figured out the best seating arrangement. Again imagining myself in their shoes, I did my best to put my friend’s parents at ease. For their part, they were both as gracious and courteous as could be. Still, there was nervousness in the air. 

Then the tape recorder came out.

The room couldn’t have been quieter, like the Pause button had been pushed on all of us (okay, I told myself, just as long as it didn’t become a Panic button). 

“Okay, folks, let’s get started. Tell me how you two met?”

That was it. That was my shattering, all-encompassing question. It was greeted with total silence, enough to make squirm in my seat.

The silence remained. Then they glanced at each other. They smiled. The wife cleared her throat, and then she started talking. It was a Friday night early in the Spring, at the student lounge on a local college campus. World War Two had ended and there was a feeling of optimism everywhere you went. Then I looked over and saw this handsome young man…

One memory led to another and another. One detail led to another. (So much of any life story is in the details.) Four hours later my tapes were full and we were well on our way to telling a wonderful story.

At the risk of overstating the obvious, nothing was more influential to you being who you are than the day your parents first met. Nothing formed you, more than their DNA, their attitudes, and their examples of how to live life. In that sense they are as much a part of you as an arm or a leg. So why not learn all you can about them?

Tomorrow is promised for no one. Stories, like people, all eventually disappear. And once they’re gone, they’re gone for good.

“History is the present. That’s why every generation writes it anew.” — E.L. Doctorow

Unless…

Unless you take the time now to ask questions and get to know more about their lives and writing down what they tell you. Unless you make the effort to ask your parents how they met, the central piece to the puzzle that is your life will forever be missing. If they are a little reluctant to answer, keep at it. Have fun with it. Remember, everyone has a story, and deep down everyone wants to tell their story.

So pay it back. Pay it forward. It doesn’t have to an entire memoir, but it could make a hell of a good short story. If not for your sake, do it for your own children. Some day they’ll want to how their grandparents met. 

Learn more about your backstory. Gain inspiration in their story and everything they overcame. And please, write it down.

Trust me, you’ll be glad you did.