When Roland’s family
gathered a week ago for Mom’s funeral, they did the natural thing and spent time
reminiscing. But although they remembered their own childhoods, they knew very
little about Mom’s.
The same is true
of family photos. This one from Mom and Dad’s wedding is the only picture we
have of her parents, who are standing next to her. Fortunately, Dad’s side of
the family is better documented. One branch has even compiled a written history
that includes family stories and a genealogy that begins with the first
generation in America.
On my side, my
mother made it a retirement project to trace her ancestors back to Germany and
to record as many family stories as she could. We also have some genealogy
information for my father’s side, and my younger brother, Gordon, is working to
enhance it. I’m also fortunate in that my parents wrote memoirs. However, Mama’s
concentrates on her childhood, and—except for a very short preface—Daddy’s begins
when he was thirty-five (a year before he married Mama). So there are still
gaps. I told Daddy that I wanted to know more about his earlier days, but he
never wrote about them, or at least he didn’t include them in the memoirs that
I have. Gordon thinks Daddy did write some of it but gave up when his sister,
who was three years younger, kept disagreeing with what Daddy remembered.
Then there are the
stories they told me but never wrote down, which I need to put on paper while I
still remember them.
Once the people
who live the events pass on or succumb to dementia, there is no way to get their
memories back. But pictures, letters, and stories written down or recorded as
oral history all bring us closer to understanding what their lives were like.
Record your
memories while you still have a chance. And if your parents are still living,
write out a list of questions and tape the interview.
Because it is a
shame to lose the memories.
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