our Story

why i do what i do

When it became clear my mother, Susan, was going to die from a disease she had been fighting for 30 years I knew I wanted to record her life story. Though I had graduated with a Bachelor of Journalism, from what is now Toronto Metropolitan University, and had been telling other people’s stories in magazines for over a decade, I was unsettled by the intimacy of interviewing my own mother. I was able to ask my mom two or three questions before we both decided it was best if we came back to it another time. We never did. I regret that decision every day. There is so much I will never know about my mom. One of her brothers survives, as does my father, but their own stories are fading, let alone those of the woman they both loved dearly. I have numerous photos of her ancestors, my ancestors, yet no one is around to tell me who they are of. There is no one left to ask.

I promised myself I wouldn’t let my dad’s stories slip away, as I had my mothers. Though I have grown up with my dad’s stories, heard them hundreds of times, they too were at risk of being lost. I wanted to become the keeper of his stories and I wanted to preserve them in print. This time I approached the task, not as a daughter, but as a writer. Not only were my father’s fabulous stories brought to life in a hardcover book, but he was able to relive the moments of his years on Earth and reflect on what a truly remarkable life it’s been.

As word spread of what my father and I were up to - the hours spent recollecting, laughing and crying, sorting through photographs and rummaging through piles of old newspaper clippings, documents and certificates, friends began approaching me. It seems we all have a story to tell. I have since been given the honour of story keeper for other families and as I listen, record and write I feel so fortunate to be trusted in the ancient tradition of story keeping.