storytellers in disguise
The Stories Objects Tell
Walk through any home, and you’ll find objects quietly carrying stories. A chipped mug that belonged to your grandfather. A necklace your mother wore every Sunday. A ticket stub from a concert that changed the way you saw the world.
These items may look ordinary to others, but to you, they are rich with memory. They are storytellers in disguise.
More Than Things
It’s easy to think of objects as “just stuff.” But the truth is, many of the things we hold onto carry an invisible thread. They remind us of people we love, chapters we’ve lived, and moments we never want to forget.
The quilt on the end of your bed is more than fabric—it’s your grandmother’s hands, stitching late into the night. The worn recipe card is more than instructions—it’s laughter around the dinner table, the smell of cinnamon in the air. These objects tell our stories when words fall short.
The Risk of Silence
The challenge is that unless we take the time to share what these objects mean, their stories may be lost. A child or grandchild might see “an old teapot” and never know it once crossed an ocean with your ancestors. Without your voice, the meaning fades.
That’s why writing these stories matters. By putting words to the objects, you turn them into heirlooms—not just things to be passed down, but treasures with soul.
How to Write the Stories of Your Things
When you notice an object that matters to you, pause and ask yourself:
Who did this belong to, and how did it come into my life?
What memory or tradition does it hold?
How does it make me feel when I see or use it?
If it could speak, what story would it tell?
Even a short note about an object can change the way future generations see it. A simple vase becomes a story of migration. A wedding ring becomes a legacy of love.
Anchoring Memory in Objects
The Fabric of Me invites you to reflect not just on milestones, but also on the everyday items that hold deep meaning. When you write their stories, you preserve layers of your life that might otherwise be forgotten.
Because in the end, the objects we cherish are not about the things themselves—they are about the lives they represent.
written by Kelly Kraus