The Gift of Storytelling
The Gift of Storytelling
Once upon when I was 28 years old, my dear Uncle Casey passed away. For me, Uncle Casey was something of a surrogate grandfather. Married to my mom’s Aunt Rose, he had always been a quiet presence of love and support in my life.
At Uncle Casey’s memorial banquet, I sat with my cousin Jerry, one of Uncle Casey’s three kids. Jerry was visibly upset about his father’s passing, so I decided to share a story with him—one that had always stuck with me.
Years earlier, when I first moved to Los Angeles to pursue my dream of working in the music business, Uncle Casey and Aunt Rose welcomed me into their tiny apartment in Canoga Park. For the first three weeks, I stayed with them while I worked mornings at a self-serve gas station and spent my nights pitching myself to bands as a sound engineer.
One week, when my car broke down and I didn’t have the money to fix it, Uncle Casey offered to be my chauffeur. He drove me all over Los Angeles in their Buick Riviera—up and down Sunset Boulevard, over into the Valley, from one club to another. As we drove, he told me stories. Stories about when he was young, about his dream of becoming a jazz drummer, and how much he loved the music business. He told me how proud he was that I was pursuing my dream because, in a way, it was like he was getting another chance to grasp those dreams that had slipped away.
It was a great time. Uncle Casey was wonderful company, and in those long drives, our bond deepened with profound love and admiration.
As I recounted this story to Jerry, I noticed tears rolling down his face—a surprising sight for a big, burly Chicago guy like him. When I finished, Jerry gave me the biggest hug I can remember him ever giving me. He thanked me for telling him that story about his dad.
“You know,” he said, “I never knew my dad wanted to be a jazz drummer. I didn’t even know he liked music.”
To Jerry, Uncle Casey was simply his dad—a quiet, hardworking man who had spent his entire life as a Park District activities director in Chicago. But that story revealed a hidden piece of his father’s life—a dream, a passion—that Jerry had never known.
That moment brought Jerry and me closer, too. It bonded us in a way that has lasted to this day. We still touch base from time to time, and it’s always a loving and heartfelt connection.
Stories have a way of revealing truths we might never otherwise discover. They connect us to one another, bridge generations, and preserve pieces of who we are. Sharing a story—no matter how simple—can become the greatest gift you give someone.
Think about it: your loved ones know you as you are *right now*. But how much of your journey do they truly know? The dreams you chased when you were young. The challenges you overcame. The moments that shaped you into the person you are today.
When you share those stories, you’re giving your loved ones a gift beyond measure—a chance to see you in a deeper, more meaningful light. You’re giving them memories to carry forward, insights they may not have discovered otherwise, and a legacy that lives on long after you’re gone.
Imagine your child, your grandchild, or even a dear friend hearing one of your stories for the first time. Maybe it’s a story about a dream you chased—like my Uncle Casey wanting to be a jazz drummer. Or a quiet moment of triumph you never thought to share. Those stories can bring them closer to you, inspire them in ways you might not expect, or help them understand a part of themselves reflected in your journey.
Life moves quickly, and time has a way of slipping past us. But stories—your stories—can outlive the years. They can become treasures your loved ones hold onto, returning to them for comfort, connection, or inspiration.
Take a moment to reflect—jot down a few notes or make a list of your life’s adventures. How many of those stories have you shared with the people who matter most?
What stories are waiting inside you? What memories, dreams, or moments deserve to be shared with the people you care about most? Don’t let those stories slip away.
If you’d like to explore how to capture and share your story, *The Intrepid Editor Press* is here to help. We’d be honored to guide you through the process of preserving your legacy—one story at a time.
Take Care, Be Safe, and Keep Yer Dobber Up!
d’Philip