Photo: Crescenciana Tan would paint simple watercolor images of her important life memories. Then her grandson, Kenneth, would enhance them to create a full picture of her life rediscovered.
I have said that stories are the best way for us to connect with other people, but stories are a wonderful way to connect generations, too.
Kenneth Tan said he was fortunate to have been able to spend time with his grandmother, Crescenciana, before she passed away in 2016 when she was 96 years old.
During their time together, “Lola,” as he called her, would recall stories from her life. Then she would create simple watercolor drawings depicting her specific memories. Kenneth added details to the drawings later to enhance his grandmother’s stories.
I found the story to be heartwarming for several reasons. First, for the time Kenneth was able to spend listening to his grandmother describe more than 80 impactful memories from her life, especially growing up in the Philippines. I imagine hearing her stories was like traveling back in time to an era he would never experience on his own.
Not only did Lola share history with her grandson, but she shared cultural aspects of her life that worked to shape the rest of her life — traits she passed down to her children, and eventually to Kenneth himself. CBS News described the project as a way to get a full picture for a life rediscovered.
Second, the process of working on the drawings allowed Kenneth and Lola to collaborate on a project that would be preserved for generations of family members.
A graphic designer by trade, preserving Lola’s memories through art gave Kenneth a sense of purpose. However, creating the drawings was actually Lola’s idea as a way to give her purpose, too.
What impressed me the most, was the insight Kenneth gained from that special time with his grandmother.
“We live through our stories. If the stories are gone, then that’s it,” Kenneth explained. “This is my way of grieving while keeping her present in my life.”
This is the type of project that would help preserve special memories of people and time they spent together. Perhaps a grandchild could paint a photo from a story recalled by a grandparent. Or, the story could be preserved in written form and kept with the artwork or photographs to create a treasured family keepsake.
Photo: A scene from the movie “Here.” The image came from IMDB.com.
I went to see Tom Hanks’ latest movie, “Here,” primarily because of his reputation as my all-time favorite actor, but I thoroughly enjoyed the film, too.
The premise of “Here” is very touching as it relays stories surrounding a small piece of land somewhere in Pennsylvania. Countless people lived on that land, as well as in the home which was eventually built on it.
The families depicted the same stories of love, joy, hope and loss that all of us experience as we navigate through life. It was interesting how people may have changed over the years, but their wishes, desires and experiences were quite similar.
All of the movie’s scenes were filmed from the same vantage point facing a living room which changed interior designs as cultural tastes evolved. Nearly a dozen families lived in the home over the course of time.
I enjoyed “Here” because it ties in very well with my mission for Life Story School. The movie proves everyone has a story, and it is those stories that connect us to each other as well as the past and future.
“Here” follows the lives of Richard and Margaret Young, two main characters played by Tom Hanks and Robin Wright, who starred together in the 1994 blockbuster “Forest Gump.” However, interspersed between the scenes, we witness interactions between people who lived in the home before the Young family and immediately after they moved on.
Scenes feature joyous occasions, such as the end of war, births of children, a wedding and warm holiday gatherings. Yet, the joy is also interrupted by life upon occasion, as people die, lose jobs, get divorced and succumb to a stroke or other illnesses.
One of the more poignant reoccurring themes involved Richard’s character, who was always paralyzed by fear or needing conditions to be perfect before he could live the life he desired. There were always excuses and the need to pay taxes that seemed to keep him trapped in a life he really didn’t want.
As I watched the movie, I wondered how the trajectories of the families may have changed had the others known the stories of individuals who had lived in the home before them.
For example, would Richard Young still have been so reluctant to embrace his natural talent as a gifted artist if he had known the inventor of the La-Z-Boy recliner had developed the idea in the same room Richard abandoned his dream? Yet, Richard and Margaret’s daughter became a super-successful lawyer, perhaps after watching the impact abandoning a dream had on their parents’ relationship.
As the movie nears its conclusion, we see early warning signs signaling Margaret may have dementia, which is causing memory problems for her. If their story was preserved for future generations, perhaps others would be quicker to pursue treatment.
The movie is a reminder of how fragile life really is for all of us. It can be over in an instant or linger for years trapping people in unproductive routines of just going through the motions of life. “Here” shows how important it is to embrace life now rather than “someday.” It’s about the dangers of putting your dreams on hold or killing them with alcohol or fear.
Eventually, after the Youngs are divorced, it is implied Margaret winds up institutionalized. But, in the final scene, Richard brings her back to visit the empty house, which is up for sale and awaiting new occupants as the story of the home continues unabated.
Once together in the house Margaret really didn’t like while living there, Richard tells her stories of the good times and special memories they enjoyed in the home. That was enough to spark her memory to recall the fond moments that are too easily forgotten when our stories are not captured and preserved for others to enjoy and learn from.
Every one of the people depicted in the film contributed to the story about the home with stories of their own. In the end, it was recalling stories that enabled Margaret to proclaim how much she loved it “here.”
More importantly, “Here” shows why it is so important to capture and retain your life story. It’s that story that sustains you through tough times, gives you hope for a brighter tomorrow, and enables others to learn lessons you learned along the way.
When I was a child, we moved frequently. From my birth until I graduated from high school, I lived in nine different homes in four different Wisconsin communities.
The next 18 years were no different. I had 10 different homes, or living arrangements, including time spent in basking in the luxurious accommodations of U.S. Air Force barracks. Those were spread out over six different communities in five states, including Wisconsin, Minnesota, Texas, Indiana and New Mexico.
Perhaps that explains why I REALLY wanted to settle down and establish roots somewhere I could call home.
My all-time favorite home was one my ex-wife and I built in the small Norwegian community of Stoughton, Wis. It was a favorite because of all the wonderful memories connected to that house.
It was an absolute God-thing that we even found the property upon which to build. We stumbled upon it when I was canvassing neighborhoods while campaigning for a seat on the local school board.
I was told nobody could build on the land because it needed a septic system and previous tests showed the property would not perc, which meant an underground system was impossible. Fortunately, I learned of a new system which rested on the ground with dirt buried over it. A test for that type of tank was successful.
The current owner was more than happy to unload the property because he thought it was a useless piece of real estate. So we bought the parcel, a two-thirds acre corner lot in a subdivision with lots of kids and two parks.
Best of all, the property behind us was a corn field that was deed restricted from being developed for decades. The road formed a perfect one-mile oval, which was ideal for walking and biking. We were preapproved for a construction loan at an unheard of interest rate of 3%
Next, we checked out home shows and walked through dozens of houses before selecting a builder who had designed a tri-level that was perfect for us to raise our three daughters. On the evening of the day the excavation took place in August 1993, we photographed our girls digging the hole using tablespoons because they were so anxious to have rooms of their own.
We visited the construction site every day and could not contain our excitement once the frame was complete. To save money, we foolishly agreed to stain every piece of trim for the 2,000-square-foot house by ourselves. I can’t remember how many floorboards and doors we stained, but I have never applied stain to another piece of wood since then.
Our builder basically begged us to erect a three-car garage. A father of a large family himself, he told us we would never regret having the extra space. He described all the things we would be storing in that garage besides our cars.
Since the garage was being built from scratch, the initial cost would have only been about $1,000. Yet, we didn’t listen and kicked ourselves every summer when bikes and toys displaced at least one of our cars.
By staining the wood ourselves, we saved enough money to have a fireplace installed instead — which we used probably a dozen times during the 18 years we occupied the house. We should have listened to the wise and experienced builder.
Miracle provision
Since it was a new building, we needed all-new appliances. I was working for a non-profit organization at the time that was participating in a large agricultural trade show in Las Vegas that September. Again, the hand of providence smiled on us.
I had never been to Las Vegas. So, during a break from convention activity, I was playing a video poker machine at the legendary Stardust casino on the strip. I was playing quarters because that was all I could afford, and really couldn’t afford to spend that when building a home. That’s when I learned how tricky casinos are in getting people to bet more.
Back in the day, quarters had to be deposited for every play and I didn’t dare bet more than 75 cents at a time. But, if you won, you accumulated credits which could be used for additional plays. After depositing all my quarters, I was playing down the credits until I had to return to the conference.
The poker machine was built so the “bet one credit” button was right next to the “bet five credits” button. I must have been distracted because I was kicking myself when I heard the machine beep five times to indicate a maximum bet had been placed.
But, when I looked at the screen, I had the ace, king, jack and 10 of spades. I held those cards while holding my breath and pressed the deal/draw button. Immediately, a bell started ringing as the queen of spades was revealed. I had a royal flush, which paid out $1,250.
I never felt so rich in my life. Afraid to lose it, I drove to a nearby bank and converted the cash into a cashier’s check. We used the winnings to buy a new stove, refrigerator, dishwasher and laundry machine.
Santa’s sleigh tracks
Construction was completed and we moved into our new home a few weeks before Christmas. It was after we closed on the loan that we noticed the builder had not fully cleaned the skylight in our kitchen. There were still two half-inch strips of some type of residue on the outside glass.
I wish I had a photo of my daughters’ faces that Christmas morning when I pointed to the skylight and explained those must be tracks from Santa’s sleigh. They were age 7, 5 and 4 at the time.
Our home served us well for many years. And we have some fabulous memories, including:
We planted a tree in the front yard that is now 30 feet tall.
We buried two dogs under the big tree in the back yard.
One of them, a black lab named Dreamer, loved to lie at the top of the stairs and nudge tennis balls down the steps in hopes someone would throw them back.
The dead-end street next to our house was the ideal location to shoot off fireworks every Independence Day.
The girls had to wear winter clothes and boots while trick-or-treating around the neighborhood in a snowstorm one year.
On two occasions, I backed out of the garage without paying attention and hit two cars parked in the driveway belonging to my daughter and sister-in-law.
At the start of school one year, all three girls wanted to have a sleepover so their classmates could get to know each other. We had 23 girls between the ages of 10 and 13 in our house that night. I learned that as much as they talk about wanting to control their figures, fathers should never stand between teenage girls and a pizza.
I’ve lived in five other homes since moving out of that special house in Stoughton, including a motorhome I used to travel around America full time for three years.
Yet, none of the living arrangements I have had during my life match the memories made between 1993 and 2009 in our corner castle on Cottonwood Drive.
Of all the places you’ve lived over the years, which homes hold special memories for you? Write them down so your children can remember them, too.
