Oprah Winfrey rocks. I don’t make it a habit of tuning into the queen of daytime shows daily (or even weekly), but one particular episode last week grabbed me by the throat. The topic was reconnecting, or connecting, with your ancestors. Forming a deeper connection to our history, as Maya Angelou and Billy Crystal put it.

Both were on the show to talk about exhibits they had contributed to the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles called “Finding Our Families; Finding Ourselves.” The exhibits are rooms filled with relics from family history and are designed to look like rooms in houses where Angelou and Crystal spent time as children.

Crystal, who lost his father at a young age, explained how he learned some insight about his dad by reconnecting with his father’s brother.

“If you know something about your past, you can be more prepared to face any trials and challenges for your future,” was how Angelou stated it.

Crystal emphasized that it is not all about genealogy, but also the relationships that are developed through time spent together, and as you spend time together, the stories begin to unfold.

I have often felt the need to do that within my own family. A cookbook with a family tree and a few stories was compiled at some point in the mid-1980s by relatives of my paternal grandmother. After paging through it for the first time recently, I was amazed to learn the grandmother of my grandmother worked as a cook in the Federal Land Grant College — known today as Iowa State University.

My father then set an example a few years ago when he honored his mother by writing her biography. She died of breast cancer when I was 14, so I never got the chance to know her as an adult. He was compelled to tell her story so that his aunts and uncles would have a better understanding of their sister and future grandchildren would know something about their great-grandmother.

My maternal grandmother, who is still alive, has written poetry all her life. I was unaware of this until a couple of years ago when my mother and I were discussing my poetry. I’ve been unaware of a lot of things about her since we’ve never spent much quality time together and have always lived a four-hour car drive away.

Last Thanksgiving I read through two thick spiral notebooks where Grandma keeps her handwritten poetry. I met a tender-hearted woman of deep religious faith who seemed to adore her family and who captured details about the joys and sorrows of a close-knit Lutheran community in small-town Iowa. I discovered my grandmother. I suggested that we publish her poetry — for family and close friends — in time to present it to her for her birthday at the end of the year.

As the leader and initiator of the project, I haven’t quite followed through yet, but it’s not due to procrastination. It is due to the fact that I need more poems from my grandmother, and at 82 years of age, she is willing and able to give it.

Her poetry has facilitated a dialogue of storytelling. This is precisely what Crystal and Angelou were talking about. The theory is that knowing who you are and where you came from will shed insight as to why you are the person you are today. The poetry is the foundation for a published volume, but it needs more. An introduction or a foreword. I need more. Generally, Grandma will reveal very little during one-on-one conversation, but she’ll write volumes in a letter (much like myself sometimes).

I write to her with questions. It has to be in written form with pen and paper — not typed and not through e-mail. Grandma doesn’t have access to a computer or the Internet.

But that’s OK. In fact, I think that is how it should be. She’s written letters to keep in touch with family her entire life. There’s something special about writing by hand that is lost through typing and hitting print or send.

As my grandparents’ generation dies, so do important stories, legends and cultures of my ancestors. Crystal made that point as well and thus urged viewers to reconnect with those aging relatives. Sometimes they can pass on a kind of wisdom my generation seems to lack.

Not everyone comes from loving, happy families. Perhaps trying to go down that road would only dredge up memories best kept buried. But no family is perfect. Dealing with painful or unpleasant memories could be the necessary closure. Maybe you are caring for an aging or dying parent or other relative. Make a point of opening a dialogue with him/her about unresolved issues. Maybe you are the one trying to reach out and share your story with an unreceptive younger relative. Keep trying.

Thanks, Oprah.

Leslie Heuer is a graduate student in English from Des Moines.