In the history of what we lose as we develop societies, and in addition to those people who have already said the ‘family’ meal and interactions of playing parlor games have become a thing of the past for nearly everyone in the developed world, I would add story telling.
When those first lamps were lit with moss soaked in animal fat and placed in a shell they still gave the same kinds of shadows to the warm or cold nights and they fed into the imagination the whole saga of defying the dark, seeing what is hidden and the traditions of wrapping-up warm and whist still awake, talking. Talking about the day gone, the day to come and stories of the actions of people they knew. And some of those lamps meant they could explore deeper caves and alone, in the intense quiet of caves, with the odd drip of water and the smells that were not of life as they knew it, they painted.
They painted what they knew and what they did. The paintings describing stories of real events. And they had to tell their children what they meant so they told the stories. And the stories of what one person or a group could do were embellished and became the wonders of what great heroes could do.
Next time you wrap-up warm, remember all the stories.