Memory Lane

Yes, Jacquelyn, Memory lane is so important. It can be so very sad also and can bring about depressing times. I wish I had a tape recorder years ago when my Grandparents talked.
Your book and your emails have boosted me up in dealing with Mom so many times. She does distort memories. I keep reminding myself of ways you dealt with your parents.
I started books on my ancesters including my parents and my life. I just found some records I have been looking for about a year now today.
I have to send copies to my cousin and Uncle.
Mom promised to write her own history down as she remembers it to have been. I really do want it in her words.
Thanks again.

I was my Grandmother's caretaker during the last two years of her life. I had so much time to ask her questions about the 'old' days and yet, thinking back, I learned so little. I wish I had talked to her more. She could have shared so much.

Now I'm thinking of my 'old' days and everything lost during multiple moves. In my teenage years, the Beatle's were the in group. Where is that scrapbook? Gone like so many other precious things I tried to keep.

There is good in these painful memories. I've begun writing my story for my children. If I had kept a journal it would have been so helpful since my memory isn't what it used to be. But everyday, faithfully, I diligently plod on, writing my story as a keepsake for them. I hope they do the same for their children because when your time is up and your story hasn't been told, it's lost forever.

Very touching article Jacqueline. I often find myself reminiscing about times past and fateful decisions during annual trips back to my home town in upstate New York. Next time I'll take your advice and bring that tape recorder along for family and friends!

Jeff

You know, this comes at such an opportune time for me to tell you how I was given a gift of being able to visit my childhood home a few weeks ago. My grandparents pretty much raised me and the cemetery where they are buried is near their old homestead. My husband and I visited the grave one day and drove down the street past the house. A man was tending his flowers out front and my husband told me I should stop. I was timid about it but I did. I told the man that I grew up in that house, and do you know he invited us in? It was a trip back in time and I kept grabbing my heart and being fe clempft all the way through each room. How beautiful a gift for someone, a stranger to give, to be able to go back in time, a time when things were so simple and lovely. To open the cellar door and see the old cabinets where my grandmother put up preserves, my old teeny bedroom, the room where my grandmother died suddenly,I alone with her, all the memories...I sent him a thank you and a copy of a deed from 1893 with the previous owner's name. I was truly blessed on that day. I have written a blog for my children so that they will have my memories also.