storytelling

i am currently reading this book called the right to write by julie cameron. in the book she gives writing initiations to the reader to help them oversome their hesitancy to write. last night, i read the initiation and it was to pretend that you are sitting against a large old tree. on the opposite side of the tree is a Storyteller. i was to tell the storyteller 5 stories i would like to hear.





i was thinking about this and was having a hard time thinking about the stories i would like to hear. and then it hit me. Brian is the storyteller in my mind. he always told such amazing stories. a sampling: from his childhood -- when his brother decided to 'fly' off of the ladder in the backyard while he and his younger brother held the ladder. or from his crazy days -- when he defied his mother and she flippantly threw her wooden spoon at him and it hit him square in the forehead. from his dating a former girlfriend that wasn't too smart -- telling her about God's amazing ways of creating cows with longer legs on one side so they could stand on the hillside and not tip over. from his early ministry days -- the mentally disturbed guy in a Bible study he was leading at the time showing up in his mom's bathrobe and slippers.

after this point in his life, some of these stories become mine too. moments together or funny crazy circumstances. times when God brought us to our knees and others where we felt we could do it on our own and failing miserably. times with acquaintances or friends [like sitting in our friends' trailer in the middle of the night showing off our 'toe talent!']. even times toward the end of Brian's life when things became a struggle.

But now, he is the one telling the stories through me. my turn.

my uncle shared a quote from a friend of his: "when someone dies, it's like a library burning down. those one of a kind stories and works that were once housed there are now lost forever."

it's scary to say, but if anything happened to me even the secondhand telling of those stories would be lost for my children.

i think i am becoming more and more convinced that i need to write these things down. it's hard. no one could tell a story like Brian did. he just had a way... and that's part of what drew people to him.

if you are reading this and have a story or memory about Brian [and/or me!] that you would like to share, please do it. my kids and i would be grateful.

he was one of a kind.