Gathering Personal Information

Photo courtesy of https://www.gsa.gov/

This is a companion to the previous blog, "The Do-it-Yourself Obituary." As mentioned in that post, this is an instrument for setting down a person's life information. I adapted it from the source cited below for use with my memoir writing classes, but have used it a number of times when helping friends write their or their loved ones' obituaries. Either way, whether writing your memoirs or family stories, or obituaries, my hope is that you'll find it useful.

Hugs,

~ xoA ~ 

Gathering Personal Information

Use these categories as a guide to gather information for writing your life stories or your life review. You can put the information on separate sheets of paper in a notebook or on 5x8 cards so you have space to add things as you think of them. I’ve also used this form when helping friends write obituaries.

Given name: first, middle, last; if you were named after someone, who? any story about how you got your name or who named you.

Birth: place, date, parents’ full names, including your mother’s maiden name; any unusual circumstances surrounding your birth, getting to the hospital; where delivered and by whom

Siblings: their names, birth dates, marriages, deaths, and names of children. Reminders of stories about your siblings (i.e. the time Susie kissed the hot pie; the time Jerry broke his arm)

Education: grade school, high school, college(s), other institutions or specialized training

Marriages, deaths, divorces: include dates, names, and places

Children: full names and nicknames, dates, where born, marriages and names of their spouses(s) and children. Reminders of stories about your children (i.e. Allie’s first bath; when we brought home the baby brother)

Work history and positions held: Make a timeline of all the places you worked

Military experience: what branch, rank, job, where served

Major geographic moves: List dates and places you lived over the years

Unusual experiences: your personal involvement in anything out of the ordinary, could be life-threatening or harrowing in some way (i.e. robbery victim, accident, caught in a hurricane) or could be something wonderful (i.e. winning a contest, appearing on a TV show)

Organizations you belonged to and positions held: clubs, service organizations, professional organizations

Religious affiliation, membership, activities, and organizations

Volunteer activities throughout life

Travel, special vacations

Awards, honors, professional accomplishments

Famous people in your life

Close friends: childhood, college/early work days, in organizations, later years

Life achievements: official and unofficial

Publications

Special skills, interests, hobbies

Foreign language skills

Main character traits: Take this one seriously, and do not be bashful. Think about the legacy you would like to leave behind. List your character traits and give examples

Life challenges: What did you have to overcome, and how did you do it? How you dealt with adversity can be a model for someone else.

Banners and bandwagons: What values did you hold high?

Political views

Add any other information you’d like to this list

            Favorite Sayings

Adapted from Katie Funk Wiebe in How to Write Your Personal or Family History, 2009.

The Do-it-Yourself Obituary

Shore Acres bloom

I’m revising my obituary. That’s right—revising my obituary. I wrote it several years ago after a friend died before she could get hers written. Now it’s time for an update. A lot has happened in those intervening years, and some of it I want noted when I’m gone. It’s also a gift I can give my family to relieve them of that burden during an emotional time.

And, you don’t have to wait until you’ve reached “geezer-hood” to do this. Start your obituary while you’re younger and feeling healthy. Then re-visit it every five years to update or revise the focus areas. Events that were of great importance in your 30s or 40s may fade from prominence by the time you’re in your 60s.

Why write your own obituary?

                                         

Well, for starters, no one knows you better than you. And you can decide to include—or leave out—whatever you want. Those important things like name of your high school, the subject you excelled in, the specialized job you did, your passions and hobbies throughout your life. You’re the one who best knows and remembers.

Your prewritten obituary relieves some of the stress for loved ones who are already upset. Your spouse, children, or life partner don’t have to go looking for information, make decisions, or sit down at this difficult time and try to compose an inclusive obituary that represents the life you’ve lived.

I’ve interviewed friends to help them write their obituaries. Merely gathering their information in one document led them on a life-review journey, causing them to recall and relive incidents and tell stories about their lives. Whether they wrote out the obituary themselves or not, everything their family needed was close at hand and accessible when the time came.

The interview questionnaire, “Gathering Personal Information,” is one I adapted when teaching memoir writing classes. It was originally developed for helping folks begin to set down information they could use when writing their life stories. I’ve found it works well for both purposes.

If you would like to see the information-gathering questionnaire I use, shortly after posting this one, I’ll be putting up a separate blog of the entire document.

This month I’ve lost two dear people: one, a beloved, long-time colleague and friend, and the other, a childhood best buddy since fourth grade. These kinds of losses bring our own mortality close to home and demand thought and introspection as well as consideration of those left behind. Plus, our families will be grateful we did it.

With hugs to you this Memorial Day,

~ xoA ~

A Fetching of Firsts, Part 3: First Car

First Car

No red-bow-wrapped, shiny new automobile sat in my driveway on my sixteenth birthday in July of 1959. Heck, we didn’t even have a driveway at our eastside Detroit duplex.

Two years later, when my husband and I lived in Ypsilanti, Michigan, right after our wedding, we got around by taking public transportation and taxis. We did lots of walking, too.  The first car arrived on the scene, nearly a year afterward. By the summer of 1962, we’d saved enough money for the down payment. It was a brand new, robin’s-egg blue Studebaker Lark. Because of the car’s distinct design, friends and family would recognize our blue baby from a block away.

[Google images]

Like most kids, I took driver’s education classes in high school. My dad let me practice driving his stick-shift Dodge, taking me out to Belle Isle to stutter along its two-lane roadways as I learned to change gears. But, I didn’t get my driver’s license until that Studey came along. Since I only had a driver’s permit, my husband rode passenger -- and became the instructor -- anytime I sat behind the wheel. It was a nerve-wracking experience to say the least. Probably for both of us.

For interminable hours, I practiced driving in town and on county roads, parallel parked hundreds of times, and studied the State of Michigan’s rules of the road.  I scheduled my driver’s test appointment a few weeks after I’d received my permit. Taking the written test was no problem. 

I was a little nervous when I got into the Studey with the DMV official. But the butterflies flew out the window once I put my hands on the wheel, started the ignition, checked my rear-view mirror, looked over my left shoulder, and eased away from the curb. The testing official directed me along our route, telling me where to turn. After he’d had me parallel park, he said, “My, Mrs. C., you certainly are calm.”

A quiet chuckle bubbled up before I said, “Compared to driving with my husband, this is a breeze.”

Having the Studey gave us a summer full of pleasure and a freedom that we’d not known having been tied to bus schedules. One Sunday morning as we headed west toward Ann Arbor, an announcement on the radio advertised it was the last day of the Michigan State Fair. “Let’s go!” we both said at once. We made a U-turn and headed east, a new adventure on the horizon.

When winter came, I learned to handle the Studey and myself in bad weather. At the first snow, my husband put his instructor hat on once again to have me practice keeping control of the car in a skid. It was scary, but I did it. Then felt capable and confident no matter the weather. 

Inside the shelter of the Studey in 1963, I learned JFK had been shot. I’d been walking to an afternoon class when the car drew up on my left and I caught a glimpse of blueness out of the corner of my eye. My husband stretched across the seat and rolled the passenger window part-way down. “Get in.” I did, noticing that he looked worried; something was wrong. “The President has been shot!” he said as he drove off in the direction of the campus parking lot near the Student Union. I had questions, but at that point we knew no answers. So, he parked and we abandoned the Studey to watch TV and be in the company of other students when those answers came.

I can only imagine how many trips the Studey made between Ypsilanti and Detroit, sometimes taking Michigan Avenue all the way, other times on I-94. Today, when I remember that car, I recall it with a smile and a nod to the girl I was back in the early 60s when gasoline was less than 25 cents a gallon and fueling up a funny-looking blue car was a first step to adventure.

~ xoA ~

Remember your first car?

Sharing my Exciting News

The medium-sized mystery box, left by UPS, sat on the tiny wind porch. I hadn’t ordered anything. Examining the label didn’t give me any clues of the contents. Then, my eye fell on the blue illustration that encircled the bottom half of the box, and I read “Simon & Schuster.” Then, it computed. “My BOOKS!”

Last winter, I submitted a story to Chicken Soup for the Soul for their upcoming volume, Inspiration for the Young at Heart. All stories in the Chicken Soup books are true -- slices of the authors’ lives. Mine is about my motorcycling in the second half of my life and is called “Did You Ride that Thing?”

My story had been accepted for publication, and now, here were my copies. Opening the box, I held my breath and dove through the excess packing paper to reveal the books. What a thrill!

But there was more to come. Our friends Karen and Marilyn, in their enthusiasm, jumped right in and approached Harold Midyette, the owner of Books by the Bay in North Bend, about the book, my story, and my connection to this community. Within the hour, I was meeting with Harold, and we were setting up a book signing for August 27, from 1-3 pm! Now, that’s exciting -- and more than I ever expected to happen. 

But there was more good news to come, this time from a different source. Owner, publisher, and editor of Bakersfield’s Wellness Quarterly, Jerri Neptune, had mailed my hard copy of the Summer Issue. Filled with excitement, I flipped through to page 10 to see my article, “Friendship -- Rx for a Better Life.” The Wellness Quarterly is available for free at various locations around Bakersfield, or you can see the entire magazine online at www.bakersfieldwellnessquarterly.com

It’s been a fabulous week, one of validation and inspiration. It’s also been a time of gratitude for the support and encouragement of my family and friends, my writing groups, and my fellow Writers of Kern members.

~ xoA ~

Chicken Soup for the Soul. Inspiration for the Young at Heart, available in bookstores August 23

Small Towns Rock

People tend to make wisecracks about living in small towns. Yes, you’ll probably run into someone you know, no matter where you go. It’s especially true in the coastal towns that we call “home” in the summer -- Coos Bay, population around 16,000, and North Bend, about 10,000 strong. But that’s part of the charm. 

Last week, at Books by the Bay, a fellow Second Wednesday book group member and I met up unexpectedly. We sat at our own tables, each of us writing in a notebook, but then had a few moments for pleasant conversation and book recommendations.

While shopping this morning, I ran into Joe. “Why aren’t you at the gym?” he asked as we stood in the store’s wide aisle and greeted each other. The gym, Downtown Health & Fitness Center, is a hub of the community. We not only work out and sweat, but DH&F is the gathering place for groups of people who have become friends -- and if we don’t show up, inquiring minds want to know why. 

The Fitness Center social network extends to outside activities and acts of genuine friendship and kindness. Our hearts are still warmed over the June Zumbathon. It was a highly-successful fund raiser that my friend and fitness center owner Deb Lal and her staff organized to benefit a co-worker who is undergoing cancer treatment.

Things happen in small towns that big-city folks often cannot imagine. My first summer here, I belonged to a writers’ group that met bi-weekly at the North Bend Public Library. I noticed that an upcoming meeting was scheduled for the staff in-service day, when the county libraries would be closed. “No problem,” one of the librarians said. “You can take the key and come on in. Just lock up when you leave.” Handing me the key, she said, “Just bring it back the next day.” 

A few years ago, I took my motorcycle to Honda World to have it checked and the oil changed before a big trip. This dealership sells and services both motorcycles and cars. As the service manager wrote up my order, he said, “You must have some errands to do before your trip. Take that loaner out there,” he said, nodding toward a car standing by in the parking lot, “and we’ll see you in a couple of hours.”  Next thing I knew, I was wheeling off to pick up some last-minute items. Does that sound like your local dealership?

Two friends, Laurie and Marilyn, both have stories of different mechanics who loaned tools to them. Each was sent on her way with a wave and the trust that she would bring the tools back when the job was finished.

Last winter, my friend Rosalie arrived at the post office window to mail a package and realized that she’d changed purses and had no wallet. The clerk said, “I’ll mail it, and you can bring me the postage next time you’re in town.”

Stories of small town big-heartedness no longer make me shake my head in disbelief. They make me smile, and they continue to renew my faith in the goodness of people. 

What’s your “small-town” story, whether it takes place in a large city or in a small town?

~ xoA ~