friend cross-stitched a plaque for me that said, “When you get to
the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.”
Stories were the knot at the end of my rope--stories about
David, stories from my life, stories from folklore and literature,
and other people’s stories.
I did hang on to them, searching desperately for the keys to
open doors that had slammed shut.
turned out to be the keys.
Gradually I realized the incredible power they had to open
hearts and teach us to grieve, render meaning from chaos, penetrate
barriers with images, preserve and perpetuate memories, validate
listeners as individuals, connect us to the universe, expand imagination
and creativity, enable growth and learning, transform pain, establish
control and closure, restore the future, and offer hope.
The stories were there all the time.
I just needed to find them.