|Posted by Lucille on October 26, 2016 at 4:10 PM|
I am a storyteller. I take stories in and breathe them out, not as a hobby but as a fact of my being. It is a privilege to be going into a profession where I will get to hold listening space for many people's most intimate stories, and a challenge and responsibility to honor their trust as the gift that it is by protecting their privacy with HIPAA-level vigilance. I know some nurses and midwives accomplish this by creating a boundary around their work life and resolving not to talk about their work outside of it. To me, that sounds like trying to hold my breath for the next 50 years. Instead I'm opting to take the messier route of untangling the thread of my story from all the others woven with it.
Right now the thread of this story, at least according to this blog, starts rather abruptly at the end of my senior year of high school. Almost everything that has happened in the 5 years since then has been dutifully chronicled, without ever filling in a prologue. So I'm starting a new series of blog posts, vignettes, to share some of the most colorful snapshots of my childhood, especially those stories that get trotted out at every family gathering, growing into legends with lives of their own. Given the living nature of stories, I can't promise that these vignettes will be accurate depictions of events, but they will be an honest accounting of the way I remember or heard of them. At a certain point the way a story has shifted and grown over time holds more truth than the original spark.