Want Your Family Histories to Feel Meaningful? Try This Simple Shift

Devon Noel Lee
7 hours ago
3 min read

If you’ve ever sat down to write a story from your life or your family’s past, you’ve probably had this thought:

“I want to write a meaningful family history.”

Of course, you do! That’s what motivates so many of us to write.

We want our children or grandchildren—or that curious cousin poking around the tree—to feel what we felt. To understand why a specific memory stuck. To see why a person mattered.

But there’s a big trap we can all fall into when trying to write something “meaningful.”

We tell people what to feel instead of showing them why they should feel it.

Here's The Problem: Telling Isn’t Meaningful

Take this sentence that came from a participant in a writing webinar I watched:

“Tom had a dark blue 1946 Ford Super Deluxe. He’d often pick me up from junior high and take me home.”

On the surface, there’s nothing wrong with that. We get the car, the people, the action. But do we feel it?

Not quite.

We’re told the facts, but we don’t get the full scene, which makes it harder for the reader to connect.

Hands typing on a laptop in a bright room with teal accents. Text reads: "Learn to write your family history. Get started."

How To Fix the Story: Let the Reader Ride Along

Now, imagine we nudge that sentence just a little:

“Often, Tom would give me a ride home after school in his dark blue 1946 Ford Super Deluxe. As we drove through town in the long, heavy car with cracked leather seats and the soft rattle of the windows, he’d tell me about his high school classes and I’d share the latest scoop from junior high.”

This time, we’re in the car. We hear the windows rattle. We see those worn seats. We imagine two young sweethearts sharing a ride as part of their love story.

The sentence never declares, “This was meaningful.” It doesn’t need to.

Because we felt it.

4 Simple Steps to Write Meaningful Family Histories

You don’t need to write a novel or include every detail from memory. Simply pick a few elements that add texture and let the reader step into the moment with you.

Here’s a cheat sheet to help:

1. Start with emotion.

What were you feeling in that moment? Were you nervous, thrilled, annoyed, flattered? Name it so you anchor the rest of the scene.

2. Use the senses.

Think about sound, smell, taste, touch, and sight. Was the engine humming or wheezing? Did the car smell like cologne, French fries, or gym socks? Was the air sticky with summer or crisp from fall?

3. Zoom in on the world around you.

Where were you?

Was this a busy after-school pickup line or a sidewalk in a track house neighborhood?
Were there pine trees, cacti, or cement jungles?

4. Slip in a little context.

How was this ride possible?

Did you arrange it in advance, or was it a lucky surprise?
How did your parents feel about the arrangements?
What did your peers think?

These small details don’t just make the scene more vivid. They prove to the reader that it mattered—without you saying so.

The Story Telling Bottom Line

If you want your family stories to connect, try showing us the moment instead of summarizing it.

You don’t need to write poetically or get everything perfect. Give us a snapshot of that moment. Put us in the passenger seat of that old Ford with you—and we’ll follow you all the way home.