My mother’s eldest sister and brother were the memory keepers of their family.
My grandfather was born in 1898 and my grandmother was born in 1908.
My Aunt Betty kept in touch with all the extended family – cousins and greats and grands and all the odds and ends scattered across several states. I even remember attending a reunion when I was a little girl. When she passed, all those connections were lost.
My Uncle John helped compile a huge book of genealogy, stretching back to when our first ancestor arrived in North America in the 1600s. I now possess that book.
I have several hand-typed pages that my father’s mother (born in 1925) completed on her family, but I have no way of fact-checking or following up with anyone since I am perhaps the last living person in this family, besides my children. I know nothing about my dad’s father’s family.
My husband’s uncle keeps up with their extended family and there used to be reunions before the pandemic. They have an online site with genealogy updates. We don’t know much about my husband’s mother’s people and no one to ask.
While I grieve for the loss of family and connection, I do want to pass on the little I know to my children. Sometimes, they humor me and listen to my memories and stories. My eldest is the only one of my kids who remembers some of our extended family. It pains me that we have lost those connections for all the many reasons – moving so frequently with the military, hurt feelings, lack of communication, out of sight and out of mind.
Part of me also realizes that in our fast-paced disposable society, we are all losing track of family, friends, and aquaintances. We’re telling fewer stories and have shorter attention spans. There has been a bonfire of the humanities with all the emphasis on STEM learning. It is a huge loss for humanity.
Memory Keeping
Sharing Stories
When we share memories orally, we offer a glimpse into a past moment. Sometimes, it may be embellished. It is surely specific to my memory of the experience and my feelings at the time. My interpretation of the event and my relationship with the others involved is mine to understand. When I share the story with my kids, I invite insight and sometimes realize how it might have happened differently than my childhood memory seems to me.
Photos
Someday, I will have all my photo albums and paper records to peruse. They’re stored in my parents’ basement and bonus room closet. They comprise decades and generations and I’m sure I will have forgotten many of the people in my parents’ photos, if I ever knew.
Heirlooms
I know some of our children don’t want the handmedowns. They don’t have any interest in the collections of our mothers or grandmothers. But I also see so many heirlooms for sale or even for free on online sites that are getting snapped up, so it’s not everyone who doesn’t want these things. Some people crave the nostalgia and glory in the memories these items represent.
Visiting
I’ve taken my kids to see some of the places that are meaningful to our history.
Some of us have the privilege of visiting elderly relatives and maintaining or cultivating relationships between our elders and the newer generations.
While we didn’t have that, I can try to visit the towns and sites I remember from my youth to make it more real for my kids to visualize. Some places are obviously gone or transformed into freeways or strip mallls or something.
Learning
We have so much technology now to research our geneaology. Find a Grave and other ancestry websites are great starting places and we can find a lot of information for free or even more with paid memberships. Local libraries and history centers have a lot of analog info and even more in digital databases.
Our society doesn’t have a lot of respect or patience with elders. We don’t honor their wisdom. I miss my matriarchs in my family and I wish I had asked more questions and paid more attention.
Creating and curating memories for an unknown future is important to me. I often attempt to be metacognitive of events so I can make them happy memories for my kids to remember when they’re adults. If my kids choose not to have children of their own, I want them to have knowledge of our history for themselves.
The things that mean something to us are uniquely embedded in our memories. In a world of crass materialism, appreciating what we have isn’t just about frugality or simplicity. It’s about quiet satisfaction found in meaning and memory. ~Laura Grace Weldon
