One of my favorite movies is Tim Burton’s Big Fish, starring Albert Finney and Ewan McGregor.

It’s the story of Edward Bloom, a man who has spent his life telling extraordinary tales about his adventures. His stories are filled with giants, witches, circus performers, and other larger-than-life characters. His adult son, Will, has grown frustrated with these seemingly ridiculous stories because he wants to know the truth about his father, not another fairy tale.

But as Edward approaches the end of his life, Will begins to discover that there is more truth in his father’s stories than he ever realized. And, perhaps more importantly, he begins to understand that those stories are an essential part of who his father is.

It’s a beautiful movie. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.

And it illustrates something I’ve been thinking about lately: How well do we really know our parents?

Before They Were Mom and Dad

Think about your parents for a moment.

You probably know quite a bit about them. You know their personalities, their habits, their likes and dislikes. You know which one is more likely to worry about something and which one is more likely to say, “It’ll be fine.”

You probably know some of their favorite stories, too. Perhaps you’ve heard those stories so many times that you could tell them yourself.

But here’s something worth considering.

Your parents had entire lives before you came along.

Your mother was once a little girl who played with her friends, got into trouble, and dreamed about what she might become. Your father was once a teenager who probably did some pretty stupid things that he would rather you never find out about.

They fell in love. Maybe they had their hearts broken. They made mistakes. They experienced disappointments. They had adventures. They faced challenges that you may know nothing about.

And somewhere along the way, they became your parents.

For most of us, that’s where their stories begin, the day we came along.  But it’s certainly not where their stories began.

The Stories We Never Think to Ask About

I suspect most of us don’t deliberately avoid learning about our parents’ lives. We simply don’t think to ask.

When we’re young, we’re busy being kids. As teenagers, we’re often more interested in getting away from our parents than sitting down to hear about their childhoods.

Then we become adults. We have jobs, spouses, children, mortgages, and a seemingly endless list of things that need our attention.

We visit our parents. We talk about the kids, the weather, what’s happening in the neighborhood, and whether anyone has finally figured out how to operate the new television.

And then we go home.

There’s nothing wrong with any of that. It’s just life.

But somewhere in the middle of all those ordinary conversations are extraordinary stories that may never get told.

What was your mother’s first job? What did your grandfather do during the war? How did your parents really meet? What was the happiest day of your father’s childhood?

What was the hardest thing your mother ever had to do?

What did your parents believe when they were young that they no longer believe today?

And what would they do differently if they could live their lives over again?

Those are the kinds of questions that can lead to conversations you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

But you have to ask.

Not Every Story Needs a Moral

One thing I love about Big Fish is that Edward Bloom’s stories are entertaining.

They’re funny. They’re ridiculous. They’re sometimes completely unbelievable.

And that’s part of their charm.

When we talk about preserving someone’s legacy, it’s easy to make the whole thing sound terribly serious. We start thinking about profound wisdom, important life lessons, and meaningful reflections on the human condition.

That’s all well and good.

But sometimes the best story is the one about Grandpa accidentally driving his car into a swimming pool.

Or the time Grandma went on a date with two different boys on the same night and nearly got caught.

Or the family vacation that went so spectacularly wrong that everyone still laughs about it fifty years later.

These stories may not teach us how to live better lives. They may not contain any great wisdom.

But they tell us something about the people who came before us.

They remind us that our parents and grandparents weren’t always the responsible adults we knew. They were young once. They were foolish once. They had fun. They made mistakes.

They were people, just like us.

And there’s something wonderful about discovering that.

An Inheritance You Can’t Put in a Will

As an estate planning attorney, I spend a great deal of time helping people decide what should happen to their possessions after they die.

Who gets the house? Who gets the retirement accounts? How should assets be divided among the children? Should an inheritance be held in trust?

These are important questions, and answering them thoughtfully can make an enormous difference for the people we leave behind.

But there’s another kind of inheritance that doesn’t appear on a financial statement.

It’s the collection of stories, memories, experiences, and lessons that make up a person’s life.

And unlike a house or a retirement account, this inheritance doesn’t automatically pass to the next generation.

If nobody asks about those stories, they may never be told.

If nobody records them, they may eventually be forgotten.

And once the person who lived those experiences is gone, we can’t simply call the bank, contact the personal representative, or file something with the probate court to get them back.

They’re gone.

That’s a different kind of loss.

Start Asking. And Then Listen.

The good news is that preserving these stories doesn’t require an attorney, an expensive camera, or a professional film crew.

It can start with a simple conversation.

The next time you’re visiting your parents or grandparents, ask them something about their lives that you’ve never asked before.

Not a question that can be answered with a simple yes or no.

Ask them what their childhood was like. Ask them about their first job. Ask them how they met their spouse. Ask them about something they did that made them proud, or something they wish they’d done differently.

Then give them time to answer.

And listen.

Don’t worry if the conversation wanders off in an unexpected direction. In fact, some of the best stories begin when someone says, “That reminds me of something that happened years ago…”

If they’re comfortable with it, consider recording the conversation. Most smartphones can make a perfectly good audio or video recording.

Imagine how wonderful it would be for your children, or even your grandchildren, to hear your mother’s voice describing her childhood, or to watch your father laughing as he tells a story about something foolish he did when he was young.

You don’t have to make a documentary. You don’t have to capture someone’s entire life in one sitting.

Just start.

While There’s Still Time

Toward the end of Big Fish, Will begins to see his father differently. The stories that once irritated him become a way of understanding and connecting with the man he is about to lose.

It’s a powerful reminder that sometimes we don’t recognize the value of something until we’re in danger of losing it.

I think that happens with our parents’ stories, too.

We assume there will always be another opportunity to ask. Another Sunday dinner. Another holiday gathering. Another phone call.

Until one day, there isn’t.

I encourage my clients to think carefully about the financial legacy they’ll leave their families. But I also encourage them to think about their personal legacy—the memories, experiences, and wisdom they can pass along.

That’s one reason I offer clients the opportunity to participate in a recorded interview about their lives, an opportunity to record their stories in their own words so that future generations can hear them.

But you certainly don’t need to hire me to get started.

Call your mother. Visit your father. Sit down with your grandparents.

Ask them to tell you something about their lives before you were born.

And when they start talking, put down your phone—unless you’re using it to record them.

Because someday, long after the house has been sold and the inheritance has been distributed, those stories may be among the most valuable things they ever left you.