Bank Holidays are never much fun, especially when one lives alone and we are still under partial lockdown. My son and his wife have not had their second jabs for long enough to come round for coffee - Tuesday will be the first day they can come and they are indeed coming then for lunch as their stair lift is being fitted.
Our promised warm sunny weather has not yet arrived today. It is half past eleven and it is grey and decidedly chilly. I am lucky enough to have my lunch provided by my carer - today it is Dover Sole with sweet potato chips and mixed veg. I shall heat the chips in my Remoska so that they remain crisp and I shall pop the Dover Sole in with them for the last ten minutes so that it heats well.
I love Dover Sole and I never have it without being reminded of my dear mother. I know I have told the story before but shall repeat it, just for my own pleasure. When I lived a few miles away and still worked I used to go down to see her after work one night each week and I always took her either a Lemon Sole or a Dover Sole as a lunch - she loved both and my father hated fish. Little memories like this keep one's parents alive in the memory I think.
With my father the memories are usually triggered by poetry, words, the stories of Conan Doyle, the odd sayings which he used all the time. As I am typing this one springs to mind. It is from the Gospel of St Luke - 'He hath put down the mighty from their seats and hath exalted them of low degree' - it is surprising just how often that saying is appropriate today.
With my mother the memories are almost always food-related. She was a keen cook and a good cook - and she loved food, especially meat (which I could happily live without if I could be bothered). Now that I no longer cook very much I still get these memories triggered - now by my carer's meals.
Typing this I wonder what memories of me will be triggered in my son when I have popped my clogs.
With my first husband the memories were often music-related - we played in many music groups on harpsichord or piano (me) and on a variety of early instruments. Also many art-related memories as he was a painter in oils and watercolour and we visited exhibitions whenever we could. With my farmer my memories are nature related - the flowers, the birds, the animals (both farm and wild) and with both husbands memories of travel all over the world. Goodness me, how very lucky I have been.
What memories do you have? I would love to know.
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30 comments:
My main memories are of living through the Swinging 60's, as they became known. Several carefree years when as teenagers we had no real responsibilities, we lived life to the full - we hitch-hiked round the country, we took a few drugs, we got drunk regularly and we enjoyed open and unrestrained sex lives. I'd do it all again if I could.
Your memories are so colourful and varied, not just from your childhood but also because your two husbands meant you built up a very well rounded set of interests and knowledge through the year. With many others, it is just either arts or nature, either music or travel, etc. - lucky you indeed! I am glad to think of you as looking back at so many wonderful things you have had in your life.
Of course, nobody's life is always a bed of roses, and you had hardships and problems to overcome like everyone else. But you manage to maintain your positive outlook and focus on what was and is good in your world.
To pick just one part of my memories, I think of my grandparents on the maternal side. Our grandpa was the kind I wish every child could have. He made up stories for us, built toys in his workshop for us and took us for walks. Never, ever did we hear "not now" from him or "I don't have time". Our grandma could heartily laugh at herself and was very active - anything from swimming to cycling, she was up for it during all my childhood and most of my youth. She never had the chance to go to school for more than the basic years but was very talented when it came to languages, dancing and singing. Both my grandparents used sayings that we still say today in my family, decades after they are both gone.
Sayings, family stories, political and non-political views.
Long conversations around the dinner table; like a lot of Irish families the food took second place to the talk.
My memories are of growing up in quiet villages like Henham in Essex, and Farningham, Kent, in the 1950's. I don't remember either of them having a library, so I would always receive books at Christmas and birthdays.
It was a quiet life, with the radio for entertainment - I loved Children's Hour, and board games and card games for entertainment.
One of my memories is of piggy back rides when I got too tired to walk. We had very little money but I always felt secure and loved.
We used to have a friend, a polymath, who was very musical. He played bassoon for many years, but when he thought he wasn't up to his own high standards, he switched to recorders and formed a very good early music group. Like I think as you said you did, he made his own bass and contra-bass (is that the right term?). He played into his mid-nineties. As regards my own memories, well, I could write a whole blog about it. Oh! I do!
Tasker - bass and contra bass - the right terms indeed. Malcolm had both and the sounds they made were superb. Playing in music groups is wonderful for making friendships.
Jean - Childrens' Hour, Board Games, Pencil and Paper games - all wonderful memories for me too.
Anne I love your saying that food took second place to the talk.
Librarian - lovely memories of your grandparents.
Derek - I was already married then and myson was born in 1958 - so I was too old to appreciate the swinging sixties. Having read your reply I now see you in a slightly different light!!
Not sure what light that you did see me in then Pat but I was certainly not training for a priesthood.
I have personal memories but no memory triggers about others in my past life. My memory doesn't seem to work in that way. I remember special people in my life everyday, no triggers.
I remember places, smells, atmospheres as in hot dusty days haymaking, the smell of ferns as I walked to my grandmother's farm as a very small child, and old country churches.
I always had a sense of remembering the walk down to St David's Cathedral, but had no idea why until a few years ago when we visited a fund-raising weekend at my childhood church and someone had blown up a very old photo of a Mothers' Union procession, complete with banners, waiting to enter the Cathedral. There I was, with my mother, at the front, aged 3 or 4. I don't remember her, but I do remember the place and the sensation of waiting. I burst into tears when I saw it.
Meeting love of my life age fifteen...marrying when he finished college...having two miracles with fertility drugs...having five grands...mother’s turkey and dressing and rolls and prune and nut cake and red velvet cake...mother in law’s choc chip cookies...I am a vegetarian and have been for 30 plus years but kids will remember my turkey and dressing...mashed potatoes...deviled eggs...special strawberry salad...pies and cookies...veggie burgers with beets...all have Afghans and counted cross stitch...remembering college degree in my forties...masters almost sixty...trips to 46 states and. Amanda...England two times...books I have read...teaching...starting churches...holidays with families....and so much more... nothing materially... y first taste of a real scone with that cream in England...
A sudden memory today, when I was trying to explain to my daughter the special feeling I had for a 1930s etching, which to her eyes was dull-coloured and boring (it's a view of a West Country street - Minehead- by J Lewis Stant). It hung on the wall by the telephone in our old house and I would look at it when I phoned my best friend Trish every week, with the etching having an almost 3-D effect so you could walk into it. I still feel close to Trish when I look at it (she died of cancer several years ago).
Then there are the childhood memories of walking all around our area, for miles and miles, and we knew every pony on the way! We walked to Cricket Camp - once a naval shore establishment - and to Botley and towards Hamble, and Weston Shore, and were gone all day with a packet of jam sandwiches wrapped in Bacofoil.
Riding every Saturday - I can still remember every pony by name. When we finally got ponies of our own (young unbroken ones were all we could afford) we had such fun, and again walked miles with them along the lanes. One vivid memory is going out in the dark on a snowy winter night to check that the ponies were OK. It was a bright moonlit night and even the unhandled wild filly Amber came up to see us and let us stroke her - we must have seemed less-frightening somehow.
Meeting my husband, having children, the struggles of balancing them with Mid-life University, winning a prize for my Dissertation (that was a real one-off for sure), castles and beaches and history and archaeology - little snippets sneak into my mind whenever I allow it to relax . ..
My husband (who died 18 months ago) and I were both keen cyclists. our house is at the end of a cul de sac, with an alleyway through to the next road which is visible from my kitchen window. The image of him appearing, smiling, from the alley (usually when I was washing up!) is imprinted on my memory. As I walked down the road last week, a cyclist in a familiar looking green cycling top, with beard and glases appeared for the alley...and for a moment I thought 'It's Dave!' Oh that it would have been.
We never went anywhere on Bank Holiday weekends as we didn't fancy being bumper to bumper on the roads and then among crowds when the journey was over, so they are just a long weekend to me.
I didn't realise how clever my father was until I was an adult myself. When I started my first job and received my first wage packet I bought some cigarettes and smoked a couple on the bus on the way home. He noticed them in my bag and instead of ticking me off for smoking, asked if he could buy them from me as he hadn't had time to get any for himself. I agreed and never bothered to buy any more. It was some time before I realised how clever he had been.
Heather - this made me smile. Those were the days when we thought it was wicked just to try out a cigarette!
Charlotte - I still listen for my farmer coming in from milking lnight and it is four years since he died. I miss him every day but would not wish him back to suffer - one reason why I belong MDMD.
BB I too did my degree in mid life and got a prize for it - I think we mature students took it all so much more seriously which is why we did so wel
Brenda What a wealth of wonderful memories you have
Veg artist What an interesting story that a photograph from so many years ago could trigger off such memory.
Interesting thought Rachel.
Thanks to you all for giving me so much to think about.
Those are great memories! At this stage in life good memories are so important.
Your memories are wonderful and they are also quite important to us to hold such memories close. I have many favorite memories of our family getting together with cousins and Aunts and Uncles for picnics in many different beautiful outdoor areas. We would often picnic in places near a creek and we children would go wading in the water and catch crawdads just to play with. I miss the days of families getting together. These days it seems everyone lives too far apart to have regular outings like we did in the past. I love hearing your memories Pat!
I think you have the best memories, Weaver. And in case you missed, I have trimmed off the last two amaryllis leaves and put it up for the summer, under a bag.
My memories of my father are also food-related, especially this time of year when strawberries are in season. Oh how he loved them and how he loved strawberry shortcake! And he was very specific (picky) as to how it should be prepared. I try to stay away from rich desserts as much as possible, but I always have at least one serving of strawberry shortcake in the spring to honor his memory. Memories of my mother include how she worked the crossword puzzle each day -- a tradition I continue, and during which I often think of her, and wish I could call her for assistance!
My memories of my father are his love of sailing, walking the beach and fast cars. My memories of my mother are of her amazing fashion and style, love of finer aspects of life and the arts and her mastery of etiquette. (Sometimes taking this all to far, in my estimation.) My husband also a sailor and showing some likeness; old foreign cars factor in as well. The ebb and flow of life and fondness over time.
What a lovely post and and comments. My father was with the British Colonial Service so my early memories are of Sierra Leone and HongKong. When I was 15 we came to Australia rather than return to England as my parents felt it offered more for young people. I spent just over a year in boarding school in Littlehampton and spent weekends and holidays with my maternal grandparents who had a delightful cottage near Petworth surrounded by woods and fields. Even though it was only a year my memories of those days wandering with the lab they bought me are some of my happiest. I still get a surge of nostalgia when I see primroses (rarely in Australia) and bluebells.
My favorite memory is being curled up in bed with three freshly bathed kids in their pajamas reading aloud. Strangely, when I 'pop my clogs' as you phrase it, I hope that is the thing that triggers a memory of their mother, when they are reading aloud to their own children.
I was away at school from aged about 6 to 18, and only saw my parents during holidays. Therefore, most of my youthful memories are friends related rather than of my parents. School became more important than home, and, in a way, friends more important than parents. As you might imagine, I have some wonderful memories.
Too many memories to write about, I think those last few years with Paul will always bring back happy memories as we travelled round prehistoric sites and especially churches.
I read this yesterday evening but didn't comment at the time. Shortly afterwards I went out to the shed and found myself thinking about my grandmother - and I knew exactly why. I bought some lavender plants recently and their scent always triggers memories of her.
You have great memories. Love it.
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These are lovely memories to read about! A lot of my memories are triggered by the old family movies we have. I recently just transferred them from VHS tapes to my computer and it was so fun to go through all the years again. My, how time has flown!
John - old ladies and lavender go together like peaches and cream - i find myself drawn to the smell more and more.
Thelma - wonderful to find a soulmate - sad that it didn't last longer.
Thank you to everyone - what a wealth of memories you have dished up for us all.
And tnank you Joanne for the Amaryllis update.
Have you any recordings of you and your husband playing, Weave? I would love to hear them if you do.
My memories of my mother are of the puddings she baked, her piano playing and the jumpers she knitted and the books that we both read.
This is where your father's saying comes from:
Mary’s Magnificat – Luke 1:46-55
And Mary said,
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for God has looked with favor on the lowliness of the Almighty’s servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is God’s name.
God’s mercy is for those who fear God
from generation to generation.
God has shown strength with God’s arm;
God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
God has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
God has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
God has helped servant Israel,
in remembrance of God’s mercy,
according to the promise God made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.
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