Untold Stories

We all have our stories.

Life is, after all, a long series of events. All of the events are important. We are molded by these events, by both the pleasant ones and, even more importantly, by the ones that bruise our souls and rock our worlds. Both, the pleasant and the difficult, have an effect upon us. Both are unavoidable. Both pose the potential to either better us or embitter us.

I have recently embarked on a journey of sorts, one that involves traveling into the recesses of my mind where my own memories are stored. There are, I believe, memories that are part of my long series of life events that need to be written down and preserved. Some of them will likely be talked about along the way in some of the audio and video media that I produce for Psalty Catholic. At some point, with Shirli’s help, a written manuscript will be uploaded and made available.

What follows is a quotation from the preface to what I intend to publish as REVELATIONS: The Untold Stories in the not so distant future.

“A lot of years have passed since that first day of December in 1978.

Even with the passing of these decades, the memories that surround that day have not faded.

They are, in fact, more alive today than they have been for quite some time. They have never been forgotten. There have been times when events in life have hidden them in the shadows of other things that have been going on in life. But they have never been forgotten. They have always been there. Like other memories, especially childhood memories, they have always been there as reminders to keep me from again drifting too far.

Memories, like these, are anchors for the soul. They are life-influencers; even those that recount the hardships and emotional anguish of difficult experiences that inflict deep injuries and lasting scars on the soul.

What follows in these pages is an earnest humble attempt to give some printed shape to these anchors that have been, and still are, a significant part of my life: a life that has entered into its early autumn stage. Spring is gone. Summer is gone. Autumn is here. One day somewhere ahead, in one of the years somewhere ahead, my own winter’s sleep will take me. Then, when my winter arrives, there will be no more keystrokes made by me. There will be no more video or audio recordings made by me.

So now is the time, while there is still light and a gentle breeze in this autumn of my life, to give these anchors some kind of a seeable and understandable shape.

For whom, to whom, do I write these pages and invest myself in producing these video and audio episodes that make their way onto social media platforms?

I am reminded of the most prized possessions that I have in those few audio and video recordings of my mother telling stories and talking about life. What I would give to be able to personally sit and talk with my mother again? What would I give to personally hear her voice again and see the expressions on her face as she talks?

It is interesting how aging makes a person appreciate the most important things in life.

So, in answering the question, I do it at this point primarily for my own children and grandchildren, none of whom truly know who I am or why I am the way that I am. There are a few other close relatives that may one day discover a curiosity to know me more personally, to hear it from me so to speak. Then there is that bigger world out there where one here and there will stumble upon my recollections and musings whether in written, audio, or video form.”

I admit that this is a gutsy endeavor. It is an endeavor that some may discover enlightening. Some of it, for me, will be lightening. Lightening is, after all, one of the fruits of truth. What was it that Jesus said about truth? He told us that in knowing the truth we would discover freedom.

“Give us free.” was the passionate plea of Sengbe in the true story told in the movie “Amistad”.

I say, “Give me free.”