The O'Connell-Owens Odyssey: Stories for the Kids

It is said that "Great stories happen to those who can tell them." One of my favorite things about my dad is his gift for just that, storytelling. I think it tends to drive my mom crazy, and I can't quite read my brother, but I love hearing the same stories over and over. "Tell the one about the bees in the barn...or the time you were Santa Claus...or when you proposed...or when you had the ponies...OH!! Tell about the Middle East!" And he knows, and he smirks and he tells it.

Two of our storytellers, Dad and "Uncle" Kurt

Turns out he's not the only storyteller in our family. One of the fun things about our weekend in New England was all the family. Though we were missing a few (hello out there Florida Hansons!!) we were a pretty big group. Cousins upon cousins, from the Hanson, Blanchard and O'Connell sides. The stories were my favorite part. My dad's cousin Mary Lou, daughter to our grandfather's oldest brother, held us captive with stories of our great-grandparents and their boys. Telling what she remembered of our great-grandmother Mary-Katherine, an Irish beauty who came over on her sister's birth certificate; of our opinionated great-grandfather and his five tall, rowdy Irish boys. How, though none of them was born a Patrick (there was our PopPop Francis, a John, a Billy...) They were all called Pat. Big Pat, Baby Pat, Middle Pat....and how she remembered mail came to her father and several of his brothers often addressed to Patrick O'Connell. :) Our Great-Aunt Barbara, our Granio's younger sister, had stories to share. Quick to make you laugh, and wonder about what she and her two sisters must have been like as girls. Uncles and cousins were there to tell stories of summers spent in Westford. Of the family farm, of Kimball's ice cream, of the church and the school. Life before us.

The family.

Adam and Dad did a switch for memories sake.

We spent the weekend listening; piling into cars our parents and uncles and great-aunts drove. Children again, for a weekend. Seperated at our own "kids" table, coming quickly when were told the "grown ups" were ready to move on and then lauging that we fell into old roles so quickly, all of us now adults. We took a family guided tour of all things Westford. A hazy memory to me, it was new to some and so special to share.