Our footsteps echo as we walk through the house that was once called home. It was never just my home, it belonged to my parents, my brothers, my children, and my brothers’ children. It was the foundation of our family, both literally and figuratively.
What was once filled with furniture, knickknacks, and laughter now stands empty. If the walls could talk, they would tell stories of the vibrant people who grew up here; stories of pain, joy, and the simple traditions that bind generations together. The beauty of a strong foundation is that, when built well, it can endure for generations. As time passes and life changes, we may feel lost in the emptiness of a room, but we find comfort in the stories, the memories, and the wisdom passed down through three generations.
From one generation to the next, we have shared knowledge. Yet, in today’s fast-paced world, we have become so overwhelmed that we often forget to seek guidance from our parents and grandparents. We consider ourselves too sophisticated to learn from them. In Western culture, where we are constantly striving to keep up, we have lost the habit of listening, not just to our elders but to ourselves. And yet, in many cultures, elders are revered as the keepers of wisdom. Who better to guide us than those who have walked before us, carrying the lessons of the past into the future?
Now, as a second-generation woman, I see life through a different lens. I turn to my mother for wisdom and guidance, just as I hope to share my knowledge with my daughters and nieces, to help them navigate life’s rocky waters. For the first time, we look at each other not just as grandmother, mother, daughter, and sister but as women. When we strip away the roles, we see one another more deeply, in a different light.
Questions emerge: What was the greatest discovery of your time? What was your most challenging life experience? Have you ever doubted yourself so much that you felt paralyzed? And perhaps the most profound question: If you could go back to your younger self, what would you tell her? The simplest yet hardest question to ask: Do you love yourself? And how did you learn to?
My mother’s generation rarely spoke the word love. As a child, my mother would say it in passing as she wished me goodnight. But over time, through conversation, she finally spoke those words to her own mother. As life moved forward, I shared more stories with my daughters, hoping that open dialogue would create a space where they felt safe sharing their thoughts and emotions. I want to explore time through the lens of three generations, not just through my own eyes but through theirs. To know each other not only as family but as women, each with a story to tell.
I remember asking my grandmother about the greatest invention she had witnessed in her lifetime. She passed at 96, but it did not take her long to answer: “Running water in the house. It changed everything.” Her response gave me perspective. Today, we complain when our water is shut off for a day; can we even imagine raising six children in a small house and having to trek to an outhouse in the middle of winter in Canada? When we share our stories, we gain not only wisdom but gratitude.
Life is richer when we embrace curiosity, challenging one another to see different perspectives. Together, we navigate our next phase of life. It is a gift to stand in this moment with three generations, embracing one another and being present.
As time moves forward, a new understanding has emerged within my family. Past generations rarely shared their personal experiences or wisdom. But now, we seek insight, returning to the tradition of learning from our mothers and grandmothers. We hold faith in the power of listening, knowing that even in the smallest details, there is wisdom. At the heart of these stories lies hope; a lifetime of knowledge waiting to be shared, bridging gaps, and inspiring women to step fully into who they are meant to be.
