I have been thinking a lot about memory, lately. Of course, there is the whole Alzheimer's thing, the family history of the disease, the fear--but no, I've been thinking about the things I never asked my parents that I wonder about now and have no way of getting answers. I have little scenes in my head about the times they did mention their childhoods, but I'd love to know more.
Once, I gave my mother an excellent book that had hundreds of questions, and I bought her a neat little notebook for her to record her answers, hoping that she would browse through her memories and tell me things I'd never even think about asking. She did begin and wrote a page or two, but she never went any further. I should have asked the questions and written the answers myself. The answers would have stimulated conversations, and I could have had much more information about my mother as a child, about her siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.
After Mother died, I tried asking Laddie questions, but the AD was too established by then for me to get as much as I would have liked. Now, there is no family left in his generation; he was the last of the six siblings.
When Mila was born, I started recording some of my memories, but that was nearly 7 years ago, and I only worked on it for a short while. Maybe today, I'll try again. I wish I'd known my parents better as individuals, not just as beloved parents. It would be nice for our grandchildren to have a little insight into our parents (their great grandparents), into Fee and I as kids, into the twentieth century. They are all twenty-first century children; we were twentieth-century children.
The sun is out, the snow is melting! It was lovely while it lasted and even now as the sunlight reflects of the white blanket, but I'm ready to get out of the house!
Linking to Favorite Things Friday, The Charm of Home, and Whipperberry.
I gave the same kind of book to my mother, but she never got around to it. I took it when I cleaned out her house and have filled in a little, myself, about me, for my own children. I also have a book my son gave me years ago with prompts for writing my own story. I get into it from time to time. It's called Legacy, I think...I worry that my parents' stories will be lost after my kids' generation...which is the normal duration of a generation's story, really. When no one is here who actually knew and spoke to the person, they become historical rather than personal stories...it makes me sad...sad that my kids never knew my grandparents, and sad that their kids will never know my parents...the cycle, the cycle...sigh...
ReplyDeleteDebby - That is exactly it! I so wish I had more to tell my children and grandchildren about my parents and grandparents. Not genealogy, but stories, narratives about their lives.
ReplyDeleteIt would be a good idea to revisit some of my old journals and collect stories about when our girls were born and stories about their growing up.
The personal stories are more important than the dates.
A very touching post, Jen. It's even harder with a second marriage much later in life. His history and my history don't have nearly the same meaning to each of us as to the former spouse. It makes big holes that I fall into sometimes.
ReplyDeleteOh, Debra, I had not thought about that.
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean. I had given my Mom a book to write down stories and the little jingles she sang to us and our children but she never did. We were always asking her to draw for us too because when we were younger she drew our paper dolls which were beautiful ladies that looked like movie stars. We have found some of her drawings and her badly damaged scrapbook which she had made in high school. Going through those things bring back so many memories but I do wish I had recorded her talking about when she met my dad and how life was growing up during the depression. I guess we should write some of them down for our children before we forget!
ReplyDeletep.s. stay warm and safe tomorrow!!
Suesue - Mother said that during the Depression, her father (a dentist in the small country town of Castor, LA) was often paid in chickens and produce. Our parents lived in a particularly interesting and difficult time with the Depression and WWII. I wish I'd recorded my parents, too.
ReplyDeleteWhat a cute little snowman and butterfly. You are very talented. So cute for brightening up a table top during this snowy winter. I know what you mean about writing more down. I also know I have heard so many stories about the times the family has lived through. It would be so interesting to have written more down. Luckily, several members have written several little "books" and we do have some of it. Really good idea to record the changes they saw. Things will be very different in the near future, and I think often of what adulthood will be like for my children. Thanks so very much for linking to my party!
ReplyDeleteSherry
Sherry - Thanks! The snowman was a quick and easy little thing to make-- not much to making a snowman, but he looks fine in his little cigar box home.
ReplyDeleteWe may not consider our lives interesting, but there will come a time when our children will find them so.