Memory makers

People always come into the store and pick up an item and say "This is just like one my mother or grandmother had."

That is the most common thing we hear. There are many items which bring out these memories from the dark recesses of our minds and pasts. Sometimes they haunt us. Sometimes they are like a yo-yo. You pull them out and play then put them away again. But they are a crucial part of who we are.

For instance, I remember my grandmother immediately whenever I smell the scent of a lantana plant. She always had it in her garden. Hers were the yellow and orange ones. This is so ingrained in me that it never fails.

So these memories can be sight and scent and even hearing and taste.

Do you ever hear an old song and remember someone from the past? I do. My Dad was a violinist and any type of violin music reminds me of him playing for us and the enjoyment he got from doing so. My nephew Kevin has Dad's old violin. He played violin for a while during his school days so when Dad died, Kevin was given the violin.

When I see old items from my jewelry box like these watches I think of my Mom immediately. Or her cross that I also have which she wore often. Her Eastern Star ring which also rests in my jewelry box. But she was so much more than the memory of what she wore daily. So much more.

Whenever I hear old songs I remember my Grandpa Frank who sang these old tunes when he was old and sat outside under a favorite oak tree and whittled during the summers he spent with us after his kidney surgery. He could really carry a tune and whittle. He would get my sister Joyce and I into an argument faster than lightning with his teasing. He was always lots of fun for a child to be around. I miss him still even though he died when I was just 10. So many stories he told us to pass the time during our long summer vacation from school.

The old pump organ on my header has been in our family for a very long time. My grandmother played and my Dad taught himself to play. Daddy was very musically inclined. He could play almost any instrument with a little time to get acquainted with it, as he would say.

I have the little iron train that Dad received for an early Christmas and kept on the mantle all his life until his death when it was given to me. One sister has a little plow he carved as a boy. There are so many things to bring up a memory of him and others in our family. I recently heard someone say that we do not really own anything but our memories. This is very true.

Banana pudding always brings back memories of my Mom's delicious cooking skills. No recipes for her, just by memory. The first year after Mom died I made the pudding for Thanksgiving. My youngest grandson Chris said, "Gram, I hate to make you feel bad, but it was not the same as Granny's." Made me laugh and cry if you know what I mean. Yes, she could cook. Funny remembering now how she always made our individual favorites each holiday. Banana pudding for the kids, coconut pie for one of us, chocolate for another, sweet potato for one and on and on. Others who might happen to join us for a holiday meal would wonder at the wide selection of desserts. But that was Mom. Always wanting to please everyone. So now, Chris has a memory of Granny's cooking to remember all of his life.

Cottage cheese never fails to remind me of great grandmother Minnie who was a diabetic and ate cottage cheese almost daily. So whenever I open a carton of it she pops right out. (not literally)

When I see these old bowls I think of her too.I also have her white ironstone milk pitcher and her old white iron bed.

I am showing you just a few of the family things that bring memories of the original owners to mind. The old white and gold pitcher and bowl bathroom set at the top of the post with the old "R" initial for my family name. Where did they get this and what memories were attached to it? We will never know that now.

Memories are present without memory joggers. Just a thought can bring out an old memory of a loved one.When I go to a cemetery I remember those of my family who have died, don't you? That is what cemeteries are there for, remembrance of those who have gone ahead of us.

No matter where I am carnations always remind me of funerals. More memories.

" Our lives are albums written through
With good or ill-false or true-
And, as the blessed angels turn
The pages of our years,
God grant they read the good with smiles,
And blot the bad with tears."
taken from Seven Hundred Album Verses
c 1884

Do you have any of these memory joggers? I bet you do!!!

I have shared with you many of mine. I could go on and on I guess as I dig further into the whole subject of memories.

Now share some of yours. Pass them on. Share with family what you remember of those who are deceased now. That is how family history endures.

May all your memories be good ones,

Lois