A Line Of Story Tellers

I love to tell stories. I come from a long line of story tellers. My dad loved to tell stories and so did his brother. My dad would always clear his throat before he started a story. My uncle Les loved to tell stories. Most of all my mother absolutely loved to tell stories. She would tilt her head  and smile so I would know a story was coming.
My grandfather had no sense of humor so he did NOT tell stories.
My brother and sister carried on  with the line of story tellers, but I think I have the gift with built in  enthusiasm.I get the visual in my mind that makes the stories so vivid. My sister would get the giggles so bad while she was telling the story she could hardly talk. My brother told stories with great detail and still does and then I get the giggles.
I started telling my baby girl stories when she was just little.If she would  be fussy at nap time I would tell her a story in a soft voice and she would go to sleep.
As the children got older they loved my stories even those I read to them because I would change my voice to be different for each character. They would laugh or be scared whatever I wanted to convey to them.
When the kids were about ten or so I would tell them Halloween scary stories. All kids would be invited to our fall barbeque no matter their age and they all loved the stories. Personally I think I loved to be the center of attention. Gee, I hate to say that, but it might be true!
My daughter grew up to be a story teller and a writer.  Her father could tell stories for hours without stopping. He was fun to listen to because he would laugh at his own stories, so is this a learned talent or just a plain old right brain, left brain thing?
There are some days when I think I have no stories left in me, but there  are always more. It seems like every day after coffee, I think of something else I want to tell you. I just can't wait 'til tomorrow!