Why Mom’s Stories Matter

When my mother was a child in the 1920s, Sundays were for family. Relatives began arriving at the double-decker house in the city soon after Mass. A ham or roast was slid into the oven and potatoes were put on to boil.

In the afternoon, “Everyone would sing. My father sang the old Irish songs. They were really stories, some were sad.”

I know this because my mother told me, and because it is written down now so my children and grandchildren will know it.

They will know that my mother never had a bike as a child, “only boys had them,” and that on school recess, “We played ball, tag and jump rope; whoever had a big jump rope was always very popular,” and that, in the time before the vaccine, her older brother died of diphtheria at nine years, nine months and nine days.

They will know that one day, instead of using the dime her mother had given her to take the trolley to the dentist, she walked to the appointment and spent the money at the bakery for a bag of “day old and broken cake, which was a real treat.”

It is important for them to know, because my mother is dead now, and because the only stories I have are the ones I recorded when she was alive, and because research shows that teenagers who know about their family histories have higher levels of social and emotional health. They feel part of something bigger than themselves. At a time they are seeking individual identity, they benefit from knowing their family identity, one created by narrative.

So, this Mother’s Day, give your family a gift—ask Mom to tell you a story.

Studies: Children Benefit if They Know About Their Relatives, Study Finds. Personal and intergenerational narratives in relation to adolescents’ well-being.

Family photo: My mother and I in Co. Clare, Ireland, the homeland of her father.