Memory bank

I found myself wandering through the churchyard once again. I noticed, not so much the names and dates, as the recurring theme of memory. In remembrance of; remembered with affection; sacred to the memory of…

Whatever the form of words, it prompted me to remember the grannies, grandpas and various great aunts and uncles that I knew from my own childhood.

Their memories, and the stories which they told, were a link from the late Victorian age to the changing times of the 1960’s. My memories of their tales of life before the First World War remain strong. At the time, their childhood seemed like ancient history to a child born into the age of television (2 channels, black and white).

Now in the internet age, with entertainment on demand and on the move (when we are allowed out to visit anywhere), my childhood seems quite remote. I will no doubt tell tales of adventures and freedom of the time. Although, if I’m honest, I was always happiest curled up in a corner with an Enid Blyton or a Puffin book.

But it is the remembered stories; often overheard as I hid, forgotten beneath a table, lost in my book; that I should be passing on. A century ago, my gran was already a mature young woman starting her adult life. The relay baton of memories, of family tales needs passing on. It’s now my responsibility to dust my memory bank, to remember those stories and pass them on.

3 thoughts on “Memory bank

  1. Your piece makes me think of the passage of time – how remote (brought out by the contrasts) certain aspects of our wider social history seem to be, and yet how personal the connection we feel to our past generations of family. I love the observation of your grandmother as a young adult a hundred years ago. There is something about overhearing, or eaves dropping that is an essential part of story telling…


  2. I loved hearing about your visit to the cemetery and the memories it stirs up for you. I find cemeteries such inspiring places, lots of unusual names on the headstones and all the history!


  3. I wish so much I had asked my parents and grandparents more about their memories of growing up and their families. I also wish I could have discussed with them their feelings about things that happened in their lives. I think we need to write our memories down for future generations.


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