Never let the truth get in the way....

There is a picture that hangs in my house of my Grandmother, Pinky. She is 17 in the picture and she says it on the road to Demascus in the exact spot where Saul was converted to Paul. My Grandmother grew up in India, her parents were missionaries there, and she tells the story of traveling across the Middle East and all of Europe after leaving this spot with two of her friends back to the United States all alone. She talks about the horror of being put on a boat and told who she would meet where and when- having no clue of who many of these people were. She calls that a great journey of hers and laughs as she tells the story.

Now, if you know my grandmother you know that I call her Nani and you also know that one of her favorite lines is "never let the truth get in the way of a good story". I can't tell you if she actually stood in the exact spot where Saul became Paul or if she actually travleled for months across the world with only 2 friends and zero parents but these are her stories.

Stories are what make up our lives, they are what create a legacy for our families and our lives and they are often the foundation of who we are.

This last month has been a whirlwind for my family. My Nana, Nani's husband, was diagnosed with a rare form of bladder cancer. Between er visits, appointments with urologist and oncologist we know that this is a rare form of cancer and the success rate is not that good.

Yet he is fighting the best he can. Chemo is too harsh for him. He has fought and beat cancer 3 other times and this time he feels as though chemo is just too much for him. He had surgery yesterday to remove the cancer from his bladder but it will likely come back.

The past few days I have been thinking of all the stories my grandparents have told me over the years. The stories that make up their lives and the ones we will tell our children and their children. My grandfather grew up a preacher's kid. His parents were young when they got married and quickly had two children. They had their surprise child when my Nana was 16 years old. My Nana will tell stories of him and his brother Kent being told to come home at dark and that they would go play in the Rio Grande all day every day without anyone watching them or checking to see if they were okay.

He tells stories of going to college prepared to be pre-med, meeting my Nani and kissing her under the tree by Alpha Chi and then deciding (when it was too late for Nani to run for the hills) that he wanted to go to into the ministry.

His whole life has been filled with faith. The faith that God would lead him on his next adventure with my Nani and their three children and the confidence that no matter what they would be provided for and taken care of.

He tells the story of seeing a UFO one night in Sabetha, KS and not a lot of people believing him. He tells stories of counseling young people who were suffering from mental illness and just needed someone to listen to him. He tells stories of riding horses with his son, Robin and how he loves to go out to Robin's ranch whenever he can.

His stories make up his life and the legacy that he will pass on to each of us.

The stories of my grandparents and their parents are who define me. My Nana is a retired Methodist Pastor so you can see where I get that from. My Nani was a teacher and a woman who defied the "rules" of a Pastor's wife and did what she wanted to do with her career and raised her kids how she wanted to despite societies norms, you may be able to see where I get that independence from.

These two people have helped to shape who I am. They are two of my best friends and I know that God continues to be present in their lives and my mine every day allowing us to grow as a family and in relationship with one another.

As I get older, I will never know if my Nani actually had servants in India, if there were actually monkeys running around everywhere, if she and her sisters ever actually stripped down to nothing and walked up and down the streets yelling "we are the mud sisters", and I don't want to know. These are our stories and our family and I will tell them as long as I am able.

Besides who cares if they are true or not we simply can't let the truth get in the way of a good story.