A Return to What Matters: Stories, Connection, and the Power of Memory

Some invitations feel like a gentle nudge from the powers that be—and this was one of them.

Recently, I was asked to lead a storytelling series at a local senior center, something I haven’t done in quite a while. Years ago, before COVID, I presented a 10-week program for older adults across several centers. It was a heartfelt experience that blended guided storytelling, sensory prompts, and legacy-building activities. The magic wasn’t in my program—it was in the people. We laughed, we remembered, and we connected. Even those living with early-onset dementia or mild cognitive impairment found their voices through the stories we uncovered together.

I’ve always believed that our stories are what bind us—not just to each other, but to ourselves. They remind us of who we’ve been, the lessons we’ve learned, and the people we’ve loved along the way. I’ve always encouraged everyone I meet to record their personal stories, write them down, or write a book!

This new series will bring that spirit back, only this time it feels even more meaningful.

Meeting with

Elsie Fetterman

I was honored to capture Elsie’s story and write her best selling biography.

Get a copy of The Elsie Blumenthal Fetterman Story from my Bookstore!

CLICK HERE TO ORDER

Let me tell you why.

Several years ago, after speaking at a book event, a man approached me. He told me that his mother-in-law—who was living with dementia—kept all of my books on a shelf beside her bed. She had become, in his words, “my biggest fan.” But what he said next stopped me in my tracks.

“There are days she can’t recognize her own daughter,” he told me quietly. “She doesn’t know her grandchildren. But she can still talk, at length, about every single one of your characters—what they did, what they said, who they loved. And if someone tries to touch those books on her shelf, she guards them like a tigress.”

That moment stays with me. Because it’s more than just a compliment—it’s a reminder. That what we create, and what we share, has a life beyond us. That stories don’t just entertain—they tether us to something deeper. They give comfort, spark recognition, and light up parts of the mind and heart we thought were fading.

So as I return to these storytelling sessions, I do so with a renewed purpose. Not just to teach, but to listen. To allow a space for laughter and tears, for memories and meaning. And to remind each participant that their story matters—whether it’s told around a table or remembered quietly on a bookshelf.

To those of you who’ve followed my work, read my books, and supported my writing endeavors—I thank you.

We may grow older, but our stories never do. They stay young, alive, and ready to be told—again and again.


If you're interested in bringing a storytelling series like this to your community center, or just want to hear more about the characters who’ve inspired so many heartfelt connections, visit MartinHermanAuthor.com and subscribe to the newsletter. The next chapter might just begin with you.

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