“Everything is connected.” We hear it all the time, but lately, I have been experiencing a series of “glimmers”—those small moments of joy and connection—that have made this truth feel incredibly real. It all started with a simple phone call and led me deep into the heart of my family history.
Let’s rewind to last September. My dad attended our family picnic in Minnesota. I remember going to these picnics so clearly as a kid; my cousins and I would run around laughing and having so much fun.
When my dad called me after this year’s picnic, his voice was buzzing with excitement. He told me about meeting new people, including a talented musician from right here in Arizona whom we’d never met before. But the highlight for him? Dancing with his 94-year-old aunt. Hearing the pure happiness in his voice as he described the laughter and the music was a glimmer in itself. He was already looking forward to the possibility of going back next year, and I loved every second of his storytelling.
Fast forward to the end of January. My dad sent me a PDF of a memoir-style journal my grandmother wrote. Because it was digital, I was able to use my screen reader to dive into her world. It was a transformative experience.
I have such wonderful memories of her, but there was so much I didn’t know. She wrote about my grandfather, and because he passed away when I was only about two years old, I don’t have any memories of him. Reading her words gave me a window into his life that I never had before.
In her journal, she included a story about how I once told her I wanted her spoon collection. When my sister told me she’d have to die for that to happen, I apparently started crying! I don’t remember that moment, but reading it immediately transported me back to when I was a kid.
I have such vivid memories of those spoons; I loved exploring them with my fingers, feeling all the different shapes and textures. My grandmother never told me “don’t touch,” and it was so much fun to “look” at them with my hands. Through her writing, I realized she had collected those spoons from all the different places she visited. Knowing they were gathered during her adventures makes them so much more meaningful to me now. Today, I have those spoons, and they feel like a beautiful bridge to her life and her travels.
The universe wasn’t done with the connections just yet. My grandfather came from a very large family, and his youngest sister—my great aunt, the very same woman my dad danced with in Minnesota—actually moved to Arizona half a century ago.
Just a few days after finishing my grandmother’s journal, I had the incredible opportunity to attend a 95th surprise birthday party for my great aunt. It was a whirlwind of joy. I met a whole branch of family I didn’t even know existed less than six months ago. They were kind, funny, and welcoming.
These past few months have taught me that family stories are living, breathing threads. Meeting these “new” relatives felt like finding missing pieces of a puzzle. I’m so grateful for these glimmers and can’t wait to see what other connections are waiting to be discovered.
I encourage you to look for the threads that bind your own family together this week. You never know what missing piece is waiting to be found.
With gratitude and light,
Kaila Allen
Hi, Kaila. I so enjoyed reading this post.
Thanks for sharing.