Post #35 – Women’s Memoirs, Writing and Healing – Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler
THE WHOLE STORY
By Ronda Armstrong
Memoir writing surprised me. I did not expect it to alter my views about how writing heals. For many years writing wove such an empowering thread through my life I had not envisioned more. I long believed that the act of writing…putting pen to page or punching the keyboard… sets life in motion and resulted in the satisfying power of doing something.
As a child born with hearing loss in both ears, writing offered a way to make sense of a hearing world by arranging words. Reading and writing gave me a break from the hard work of hearing.
I wrote letters like my mother, aunts, and grandmother. Sending them to family and friends provided a sense of connection and contribution. I still write letters, believing that healing power radiates through the hand of the writer to the receiver.
As I grew into older childhood and adolescence, I penned journal entries, meditations, and poems. Hearing loss and ear surgeries marked only the beginning of medical issues. They continued with lifesaving throat surgeries in my early teens, resulting in vocal cord paralysis and facial muscle weakness. By describing challenges and deciphering solutions I clarified concerns, drew out emotions, and gave expression to my resilient spirit.
By the time I was identified with an ongoing tumor disorder in young adulthood, my journaling reflected the good gained from challenging situations. I spotted joys and blessings bestowed in spite of tough times.
A few years before early retirement, I joined a creative writing group. The style and focus of my writing shifted, occurring naturally as a response to group prompts, as well as heightened awareness about how sensory stimulation jostled memories. The scent of spiced apples took me back to my mother’s candied red apples and influenced musings about traditions handed down through generations. A red truck prompted memories of my father, his pick up, and his practical advice: learn from every experience and use the information to improve. Handmade cards reminded me of an aunt who remembered others with her presence and lovingly made cards. A photo of me in my kindergarten clown costume turned into stories tracing changes in my life. Every memory connected to another one, another person, or another question to ponder.
Deeper reflection resulted in memoir vignettes and essays. The value of life reflection from an experienced view and one of distance put patterns into context and meaning. I discerned how influences, decisions, and results fit together, or fell apart, and how traditions, stories, and legacies were passed down from others, or not. What once were fragmentary pieces and patterns shaped into a more complete story.
I discovered that memoir writing heals through connecting past, present, and future. Sewing together the threads of memory links inner resolve and outer actions. Memories tell us who we are, where we started from, and inform future decisions. We create our legacy from the stories we fashion from memory, along with how we invest our time. Every day our decisions influence the stories we leave behind.
Still a piece was missing for me. Although claiming legacy created well being and wholeness, publicly sharing stories — developing opportunities to inspire and be inspired by others — provided healing’s finishing touch.
In a rapidly changing world, collective stories, rich in similarities and differences, preserve cultures of times past. Understanding life from a seasoned view, and in connection to others, encourages future decisions for good of all.
By fashioning our stories and sharing them, we design the fabric of shared humanity and authentic living. The celebration of strength, wisdom, and compassion — the textured spirit of united stories — restores fragmented lives and communities to wholeness.
