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The Story Keeper: Finding Meaning While Letting Go
Who is the story keeper in your family?
Traditionally, it’s the matriarch. She is the one who remembers everyone’s middle name, knows the family tree by heart, keeps the holidays and traditions alive, and holds space for the sacred and sometimes secret parts of the family history. She knows the birthdays, anniversaries, dates of death, cemetery plots. She has all the things: the photos, the recipes, the linens, the ticket stubs, the prayer cards. She may have even held on to newspaper clippings, endless greeting cards, and closets full of “someday” sweaters. These things, each one carrying a whisper of a memory become part of the fabric of our family story.
So when the matriarch dies, we don’t just grieve the person. We grieve the unspoken question: Who will be the story keeper now?
The Hidden Layer of Grief
Often, this loss is buried beneath more pressing concerns such as funeral arrangements, financial logistics, medical decisions, the future care of an aging father or surviving siblings. But the quiet, aching grief of “Who will remember now?” lingers just beneath the surface. And then comes the part no one prepares you for:
Cleaning out the home.
The closets, the drawers, the basement, the attic.
The boxes full of photos of faces no one knows.
The souvenirs of lives well lived, losses endured, and decades of "maybe someone will want this someday." You walk through rooms that still carry her scent and her silence, trying to make decisions that feel too heavy for a single afternoon.
What do we keep? What do we release?
The truth is, most of us feel both a deep desire to preserve the past and a quiet permission to let some of it go. It’s okay to hold onto the handwritten recipes, the rosary beads, the wedding photo, the Christmas ornament made by a grandchild’s hand.
It’s also okay to let go of the stacks of National Geographics, the decades-old bank statements, the cracked dishes, the things that only made sense to her.
You are choosing to honor what holds meaning and to release what no longer serves.
Sometimes this process takes a day. Sometimes it takes a season. Sometimes, a year.
There’s no right way, only a compassionate way.
Passing the Torch
If you're part of the sandwich generation (caring for aging parents while raising children of your own) you’re not just clearing out a home. You’re tending the roots of your family tree while trying to grow your own branches.
One of the most healing ways to navigate this time is to intentionally share the stories while you can:
- Print out the best of those digital photos on your phone
- Label the backs of old pictures while someone still remembers
- Make a simple album, a shadow box, or create a slideshow for the next holiday
- Keep one or two meaningful heirlooms — and write down why they matter
This is how family traditions are passed on with care and clarity.
Keep what carries love. Let go of what carries weight.
Tell the stories today, not someday.
Because we always think we have more time... until we don’t.
“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.”
Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus
Finding Meaning in Aging: A Logotherapy Perspective
Logotherapy, (not Pepsi, Baskin Robbins, or FedEx)
If you consider the popular logos that we see on a daily basis they distill the company philosophy, culture, meaning, and the product into one small, yet powerful, image. Often there are hidden meanings that can be fun to figure out.
The Greek word “logos” literally means word, reason, or principle. In ancient philosophy, it came to represent something much deeper: the underlying order, logic, or meaning that gives coherence to the world. For Heraclitus, logos was the rational structure that held the universe together; for the Stoics, it was the divine spark or reason within all living things. Philosophers turned to the word because it captured both language (how we make sense of life through words) and truth (the deeper order behind appearances).
In my practice, I draw on the wisdom of Narrative Therapy and the profound insight of Logotherapy.
Logotherapy, developed by psychiatrist Viktor Frankl, is often called the “therapy of meaning.” Frankl, a Holocaust survivor, observed that even in the most unbearable conditions, people who could find meaning, whether through love, hope, or a sense of responsibility were more resilient and better able to endure suffering. At its core, logotherapy suggests that our deepest drive is not pleasure (as Freud proposed) or power (as Adler proposed), but meaning. Frankl wrote: “Those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear with almost any ‘how.’”
For those of us working in psychotherapy with older adults, this is essential: finding meaning is not only about survival. It is about dignity, purpose, and peace in the face of life’s inevitable changes.
Stories That Sustain Us: Finding Meaning in the Aging Journey
Aging is not a detour from life. It is life, unfolding in its most essential form. And yet, for many, aging brings with it a quiet ache: Who am I now? What is my purpose when the roles I once played begin to shift? Narrative Therapy begins with a simple but radical truth: you are not the problem ... the problem is the problem. So often, people internalize cultural narratives of aging as decline or irrelevance. But in therapy, we gently loosen those stories and invite in your own voice.
We ask:
- What stories have shaped how you see yourself as you age?
- What values have carried you through your life?
- What wisdom have you gained that still wants to be shared?
Together, we begin to re-author your story. We do this not to erase the grief or loss, but to expand the lens so that meaning becomes visible again.
Aging as a Meaningful Chapter
I often encourage clients to think of aging as a chapter in a larger story. The early chapters of life are full of striving such as building our careers, raising our families, achieving goals. Later chapters may be quieter, but they are no less significant. In fact, they often hold the most wisdom, depth, and opportunity to reflect on what has mattered most.
Logotherapy reminds us that meaning is always possible, no matter the circumstances. Whether it’s finding gratitude in a small daily ritual, sharing hard-won wisdom with a younger person, or reframing illness as an event, not the person themselves, the search for meaning allows aging to become not just an experience of loss, but an experience of purpose.
We need to identify our own legacy, create connections, reflect on lives well lived, or seek to understand some painful memories. Working with loved ones we can create...
- A life with depth and reflection
- A presence that nurtures the next generation
- A perspective that reminds others what truly matters
An Invitation
If you are asking yourself “What now?” as you navigate aging, know that you are asking one of the most courageous questions a human being can ask. Logotherapy teaches us that meaning is not something we stumble upon. It is something we create for ourselves.
So perhaps the invitation of aging is this: to reflect on your story, to honor what has been, to tend the roots of your tree of life, and to continue to shape meaning in what is yet to come.
Because no matter our age, our lives remain works in progress. And meaning, our deepest “why,” is what carries us forward.
(You can click the photo to the right to go to the the article about pop culture logos if you are interested in some of the details. The image is not my own and copywrite remains with the artist)
GRIEF is Messy
Do our loved ones send us signs after they die?
After many years of sitting beside patients in hospice and palliative care, and walking with families through the tender path of grief, I have been asked one question more than almost any other:
“Do our loved ones send us signs after they die?”
My answer is always the same: YES
I have heard it and I have personally witnessed it too many times to doubt it. The signs come in different ways, but they are real. They are gifts from those who love us, reminding us that, while the physical body goes away, the spiritual essence, the soul, and the love never end.
People often tell me stories that seem to defy simple explanation:
- A cardinal appearing on the windowsill the morning after a parent’s passing.
- A song playing on the radio with lyrics that seem to speak to them directly.
- A dream so vivid and comforting it feels like an embrace.
- The smell of a favorite perfume, a whiff of their mother’s cigarette, or the sense of a familiar presence nearby that gives the chills or the feeling of a nudge.
These moments are not coincidences, they are not random events. As Carl Jung wrote about synchronicity: “It is an ever present reality for those that have eyes to see it.” What we call “signs” are those synchronistic moments where spirit breaks through and speaks to us directly.
At the End of Life
One of the most sacred truths I’ve witnessed is how often people who are nearing the end of life speak of seeing loved ones who have already passed. Sometimes we see them reach into the corner or stare off into the distance. Some are able to vocalize that they are being greeted by mothers, fathers, spouses, or children who have already passed away. Others may have a peaceful look or appear comforted.
What I have seen again and again is the comfort and peace these visions bring. The fear of death softens when we know we will not be traveling alone. Families, too, often find solace in hearing their loved one speak with relief about being welcomed home by those who went before.
Our rational minds may try to explain away these experiences, but the heart knows better. We should not dismiss them as wishful thinking. They are part of the mystery of love, reminding us that love lives on and it continues beyond what we can see or measure.
An Invitation to Remember
The next time you notice something that feels like more than chance, maybe a bird, a rainbow, a sudden warmth in your chest, pause and believe it. Receive it as the gift it is.
And if you feel called, take a few quiet minutes to write down or share a story about a sign you have received from someone you love. These stories not only keep their spirit close, but they remind us that we are never truly alone.
