Why Life Stories Matter
My mom passed away recently.
In the days leading up to her celebration of life, my sisters, my dad, and I — each in our own corner of that strange, timeless space of grief — worked to create a eulogy that would capture her spirit. As we dug through boxes, photo albums, and our own memories, stories began to surface. Stories we had never heard. Quiet details of her life that surprised us, touched us, and made us laugh out loud.
But what surprised me most wasn’t how much I remembered. It was how much I didn’t.
There were stories I’d never heard before. Moments that had quietly shaped her life. Glimpses of who she was before she became Mom.
That experience reaffirmed something I’ve always known deep down — that life stories matter. Whether you call it a memoir, a biography, or simply “my story,” capturing the essence of a life is one of the most meaningful things we can do. For ourselves. For our families. For future generations.
Why Write a Life Story?
Because the everyday moments are the ones that matter most. Because your grandkids will never know what it was like to grow up in your shoes — unless you tell them. Because our stories connect us, humanize us, and remind us where we come from.
Because memories fade — and stories, once written, last forever.
“But Where Do I Start?”
You don’t need to be a writer. You don’t need to have “lived an extraordinary life.” We often think of memoirs or biographies as something reserved for celebrities or public figures. But some of the richest, most powerful stories are the ones told in everyday voices.
What you do need is a starting point. And that can be as simple as a good question.
Here are some prompts that can unlock wonderful memories:
What did your childhood home look like?
Who was your best friend growing up?
What’s a story your parents used to tell about you?
What was your first job — and what did you learn from it?
When did you fall in love for the first time?
What was the hardest decision you ever made?
What was your favourite adventure or place you travelled to?
These kinds of questions can turn quiet recollections into vivid, moving stories. You can write them in a notebook. Record yourself speaking. Share them over a cup of tea with someone who’s good at listening and ask them to write it down for you.
Or — and this is where modern magic steps in — you can type your memories into ChatGPT or Grok and ask it to help shape your stories into readable, engaging narratives. It's like having a writing coach in your pocket.
Here’s a simple idea: try starting with a list of your 10 most meaningful memories. Feed them into ChatGPT with a little context — for example, “Can you help me turn this memory into a short chapter about my childhood?” You might be amazed at what comes out.
It’s Not Just for You
When someone we love is gone, we cling to the things they leave behind—their handwriting, their voice, their stories. There’s something grounding and healing in holding a tangible piece of their life. And the truth is, the best time to tell these stories is while we still can—while the details are vivid, the memories fresh, the laughter still echoing.
I’ve worked with so many people who’ve shared their stories with me — some funny, some tender, some full of hard-earned wisdom — and one thing always stands out: how powerful it is to see a life laid out on the page. To hold it in your hands. To share it with family.
It’s never too early to start. And it’s never too late.
If you feel that tug — that quiet nudge to capture your story, or the story of someone you love — follow it. The process is simpler than you think, and the impact is deeper than you can imagine.
