The Importance of a STORY...

As I was here thinking of all the people that have or had significance in my life and those who still have… something hit me very hard… A few things that I heard this week that originated from two people who are from completely different sides of the world…stunned my intellect and left me in complete awe over the wisdom that two simple statements impacted my life.

I heard a friend of mine from Australia telling me that the best things, the greatest accomplishments (according to the Australian Aborigines), that any human being can have is … “Be Able to tell a story”. Tell stories… life stories… a story of time, of existence, of an adventure, of a happy event, of a sad occurrence, a story of love, of a broken heart, of a complete passionate deed…in précis a story of “A WALK ABOUT”, which means “Sometimes a person needs to lose him/herself in order to find themselves and they go walk for months, wondering… watching bad and good things, learn to laugh with funny situations and cry with adversities… and that way they learn who they are and how they can strengthen themselves… going on “ A Walk About” ,a person learn and grow so much…Most of all, because they gain so many experiences, that allows them to have innumerous STORIES to tell. According to the Aborigines a human being who can share many stories is indeed a rich, lucky and successful individual! And that is undeniably the best legacy a man or woman can leave behind them…

Then a friend from Turkey was talking with me about one of my passions in life….”Archeology”… and I was expressing just how hard it is for me to think that years from now I won’t be known, recognized, I will be forgotten as soon as the last person I know dies… I have done nothing that will allow me to go down in history as someone’s hero… and she asked me when does someone’s life become scientific and not emotional? And she said that forever and ever someone will be influenced, because I came to this earth… that took me back to my great-grand parents… I can see just how they had no clued that because of their decisions, their great granddaughter would be here today writing about them… And as I thought about certain things of my great grandparents, I realized that my first name is ANA… just like my great grandmother… my older daughter’s middle name is EMILIA, just like my grandmother… people move on, as long as someone carry them in their hearts and have a STORY to tell about them… I felt so Inspired today thinking about my ancestors and felt so proud that both my sides of the family, on my dad and mom’s side, always got to tell and share many STORIES about our forefathers with me and my brothers… and they were always told with such love that I can seat down here today and feel like I know my ancestors like I know my extended family in nowadays….

How amazing that because we take the time to share with our loved and adored children STORIES about people that are not so well known to them, but were and are a part of who we are and of who we became, we are allowing our offspring to get to know those amazing people that had such a great influence in our lives and we are teaching them what they will share with their own children as well…and through these STORIES and experiences that we lived with our loved ones and we carry them on by sharing them with our kids… we are consenting that our loved ones who had departure from this earth will never be forget by our progeny, because by sharing with our children, who will share with their own… and so on and on… How amazing to learn from different cultures and ultimately I realized that Genealogy never dies … what a blessing that we can one day see face to face the people, the names that through times became historic family characters in our lives. Just because someone told a STORY :)

My Brother Silvio, little Sara & I the Day Before he moved to Germany

Carlos & Our Daughters in Disneyland

Carlos & Our Precious Daughters in 1998

My First Mother's Day without Carlos in my life anymore.

Having a BBQ, Carlos was fishing and cleaning the fish and cooked it. Mafra -Portugal with some Brazilian friends of ours, and Carlos is holding our Sara.

The day that I turned 19 years old

I was 7 years old in this picture taken in the North of Portugal with my daddy, my mom's step-daddy, my mom's sister Angela, who lives in Germany with my my cousins, Avelino & Lidia. My mom's younger brother who is my uncle Firmino who lives in Belgium right now, my inseparable brother Silvio and one of my 3 Idols...(my maternal grandmother Maria). I was wearing my favorite dress ever, I felt in love with the fabric and couldn't wait for my mom to finish it and then I wore it all the time... :D

Carlos Mission 1986-1988 In Lapa Chappel after a Mission Reunion.

Another Mission Picture of Elder Carlos Santos 1086-1988, again in Lapa Chapel, that peculiarly is the same chapel that I was baptized when I was 12 years old.

Joking with Carlos, in my grandmother's house up in the North of Portugal, Carlos asked me to pose for him and I made a pose to goof around, with my girls laughing in the back with the number of silly pictures that mommy and daddy were taking... then they both posed for us, we had a blast :D

My Maternal Grandfather, he was royalty and this is the ONLY picture of him, I had it restaured and you can see what a hansdome grandfather I had, he passed away when my mom was 10 years old of tuberculosis. Leaving my grandmother, my mom, my aunt Angela and one of my favorite people in the world, my mother's older sister, my aunt Fatima very sick, but I came from a family of survivors and very strong women who I could only hope to be able to live 1/3 up to their reputation. They LIVED...

Me when I was 17 years old...in Portugal. This picture won a photogenic prize and my model face career took of after this picture being selected as the advertisement cover for the biggest Photography Studio in Portugal.

My mom, my brother Silvio, me and my little brother Nuno, we were visiting my paternal grandparents and my daddy was the one who took this picture. My mom had a long hair, up to her waist and she had it cut this same day... I was 8 years old. This was in Benfica-Portugal.

After a school day chilling with my family and the missionaries in 1986.

Bela & Sara, our first day at home after arriving from the maternity. November 1989

Carlos and my favorite missionaries while my husband was the Bishop of Mem Martins/ Sintra. A few months before we moved to the States, Elder Brent Wood, Elder Tony Romero and Elder Nolan Devor, we had so much fun with them while still do the missionary work.

Mommy & Baby Jessica after returning from the beach in 1994 in our home in Portugal...daddy took this picture.

Carlos 5 minute picture for his "Bus Pass". It was taken in 1995...in Portugal.

I was almost 17 years old and had arrived from school, the missionaries were eating in our home and we were having a very nice time with Elder Johnson, Elder Davis, Elder Fragoso, Elder Dillan and my mom and I, while Elder Hopper and my dad were taking these pictures.

My first picture with Carlos as offical boyfriend and girlfriend. It was November 24th 1988, Carlos Birthday. This picture was taken in Carlos home in Sao Paulo.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

How amazing it is to be able to share a STORY of a lifetime…To me another GREAT WAY to be able to tell a story is through pictures… a picture is almost like architecture of a lifetime… How rich are we when we take the quality time to share stories, REAL stories with our friends and family and show them pictures and explain what happened, because without us to sharing that moment when the picture was taken with them…it will be nothing but a picture. Now when we share everything we remember that took place… a single picture tells a story for us without much word…. Wow the power of speaking, talking, sharing… that is something that makes a family and friends come closer and together…But the best thing of all is that we will be carried on even after we leave this earth… Simply because our descendants will be the ones telling OUR STORY…