By SUSAN DROMEY HEETER, Joyful Musings

According to Hawaii’s American Institute of Architects, “Let’s talk story” is a common phrase in Hawaii; it is a phrase that expresses endearment towards others and encourages open dialogue. Historically in Hawaiian culture, information was passed from generation to generation through the use of verbal storytelling.“

I muse joyfully on talking story, not only on the phrase but on the activity. There’s nothing better than a good story, a story that prompts a giggle, a gasp, a pause. Talking story is life at its best, that “expression of endearment,” that trust.

Last week I talked story with a friend I’d not seen for years, my dear friend, Gina. We met up in Florida and spent hours driving over those beautiful bridges of the Florida Keys.  Cars are lovely in which to talk story, to remember events, people, places, things. We laughed at memories of our 90’s selves: younger, thinner, adventurous and open to the wide world at our fingertips.  

Gina and I taught school in the Netherlands where we’d both moved from our respective states to teach. Gina hailed from Kentucky; I from Massachusetts. I’d never met anyone who referred to earrings as “ear bobs” and had never heard of a “dry county.”  Gina and I played endless games of Scrabble, laughed, traveled, dated both weird and interesting men, lived colorful lives.

And Gina can talk story with the best.  As we drove on Route 1, she told me a story of a serial killer from her Kentucky home, one who’d been caught simply by someone noticing a car parked in a field.  I was both terrified and mesmerized, this little town with such violence. Immediately, there were no sunny waves outside the Buick’s window, only a door being forced open, a woman dead, detectives putting pieces together, cases solved.  

I still shudder. 

But our stories brought levity as well; we remembered a time we’d learned to ski in the German Alps. Gina suffered grave motion sickness on the bus ride down from Holland so I read poetry out loud to create both entertainment as well as a diversion. And as the ski destination was affiliated with the military, we skied in military issue jackets, bibs and skis. And we laughed as we pizza and french fried down the bunny slope, looking identical to other skiers. We laughed at the silliness of ourselves, our luck in learning to ski, our twinning in the Alps. Talking Story gives memories color and vibrancy.

In an age of video shorts and Netflix series there is nothing like talking story with an old friend; I muse joyfully you will talk story soon – in Florida, Hawaii, or maybe just the aisle of Market Basket. Talk and story, I muse joyfully on both.

Susan Dromey Heeter writes from Newmarket and often from the road where she joyfully muses on life in the fast and slow lanes. She drives a stick shift, can also ride a unicycle and recently retired after 30+ years of teaching. Dromey Heeter finds joy primarily in Milk Duds and people who make her laugh, not necessarily in that order.  Follow Susan @dromeyheeter on Instagram and/or @BudgetVogue63.  She can also be reached at dromeyheeter@gmail.com.