A brief safari into three lives

Our grand, Alice, is 9 in three weeks. She's staying with us for a few days. I asked her what I should write about. She said, “Teenagers.” “What about teenagers?” I continued. Her reply: “They need deodorant.” Ha!

I then told her, “Maybe I'll write about you.” And I got a, “Why me?”

This reminded me of a friend who was telling me an incredible World War II story of a man she knows — his father hid him as a teen so he wasn't conscripted into Hitler's army. When the Russians showed up at war's end he landed in a POW camp — from which he escaped twice — before making his way to the United States. My friend said to him, “Someone needs to tell your story.” Right away he scoffed, “No one's interested in my story.”

There are over 80 decades between Alice and Rudy — and they're saying basically the same thing — “Why does my life have meaning for anyone else?” More specifically, they are asking who would care among those outside their knowing.

That's an honest question. Some people don't see past their own lives. But if I'm willing to go on “story safari” — as I call it — then I can live many times my one life. I can experience adventures and learn and places I'd never reach alone.

There's always the rejoinder, “I've got enough to handle — I don't need someone else's story.” Maybe that's exactly when I do need it. It might be just the thing that helps me get a grip on mine.

Back to Alice. I see her on my glider bench outside — the shade umbrella cranked open — rocking to her book of fairy tales. They are her favorite reading these days. “Did you know,” she informed me, “that they discovered a new Grimms' fairy tale, The Fox Prince.”

Now where did “they” dig that up? I decided to research it. Yes, there is a “new” Grimms tale — with the input of Artificial Intelligence. Somehow AI in the same book with fairy tales is a home invader.

I also asked Alice what she likes about herself. “I like my personality,” she said. That's a good thing. My personality lives with me — so it's good to be on friendly terms.

There is much I can learn from somebody who is 9 — just coming up in the world. Then there's Rudy — over 90 and finishing this world. He has a different wisdom. I'm eager to meet him. I have questions. What was it like in that Russian POW camp? How did he escape? How was it getting started in a new country?

My uncle is Rudy's contemporary. He'll be 96 in August. Our family hopes he's coming home soon from the hospital where he landed over Memorial weekend for a heart abnormality. How he responded to the nurse when she was doing his cognitive check — name, date of birth, where are you, why are you here — was spot on until the last one. He thought he'd have some fun, and answered, “OB/GYN.” That's vintage Bob.

And just like that, I've adventured on a brief story safari into three lives. I've learned some things, had some laughs, and been inspired. Everybody's got a story. I'm far from the only one interested in those stories.

“Why me?” asks Alice. Because nobody else has your story.