In the fall of 1989, I purchased a copy of The Grandparent’s Video Interview Kit
(TM), and took
it along with my camcorder (a well-used Magnavox VHS at the time) down to Los Angeles
where my wife and I produced separate Grandparent Interviews for both my mother and
father.
It was great. I heard stories and learned things about my parents that I had no clue
about in all my 39 years as their son.
Wonderful stories of my pare
nts growing up in
the Midwest. How my father became a doctor. How a picture of my mother clowning around
ended up on a hospital bulletin board (she didn’t believe there was film in my
dad’s camera.) How my mother's parents had serious doubts about her marrying someone
so much older (she was 21, he was 26.) What it was like for them the day I was born.
There was more — much, much more. Why my grandparents had to move their wedding
ceremony across the street (their marriage license was for the wrong county) and why their
first home was made out of sod. How my other grandfather’s life was saved by his dog.
So many enchanting tales I can’t remember them all.
And two years later, both parents were gone. My father from cancer, my mother from HIV
caused by a contaminated blood transfusion.
My wife and I have a handful of possessions we consider so valuable that we keep them
in a safe deposit box. My parents’ original videos are two of these (we have copies
at home to watch.)
My children, who were four and two at the time, will remember their grandparents
because of these videos. And my future grandchildren will get to meet their
great-grandparents someday — a feat possible only because of my parents’
willingness to sit in front of a video camera for a couple of hours and have a
pleasant conversation with their daughter-in-law.
My parents did leave behind a little money. They left behind photographs. We have my
mother’s jewelry, my father’s WWII dog tags.
But more importantly, they left behind something that has a value transcending any
price that can possibly be put on it. They left behind history, thoughts, philosophy. They
left behind their voices, their mannerisms, their hopes, their hard-won
learnings.
Sometimes, as I watch my children grow and gather their own lessons, I doubt the value
of my own life learnings. Then I remember to look, as my parents’ son, at the legacy
contained in their interviews.
And I know what gift I will give my children, too.
You can easily do the same. You can give a gift that will shine for generations of your
family to come.
