I had this whole piece ready to write. It was all about my Aunt, who died recently. I started it. I started it with how my Mum has (had?) three sisters. But, I couldn't write anymore. I had this whole plan, that on the day of her funeral (in England), I would post this great blog piece as a memorial to her. Well, it didn't get written and consequently, nothing was posted in a grand nod to AJ. Funny how life turns out. Monday was such a shit day, that I honestly couldn't have written anything if my life depended on it.
And so I am left, feeling a bit sad that I never did write about AJ and that I couldn't put into words what she meant to me, to my family.
What strikes me when older people die is how annoyed I am that I didn't ask them everything I wanted to know. Problem is, that before they die, you don't know what it is you exactly want to know. For example, AJ was 5 years older than my Mum. She remembered all about their family - my grandmother and grandfather, their life during and after World War II, my great aunt's, their children and while I had a hard time keeping straight all those cousins that belonged to my Mum and her sisters, I still loved to hear about it all. And if I had a question that my Mum wasn't sure exactly how to answer, she'd tell me to ask AJ. But it's too late now. I can't ask anymore. (I think everyone should keep a little voice memo on their smart phone and just feed memories and facts about their childhood into it. Yeah...not realistic, I know.) But I have this sense that the people in my grandparents generation are starting to fade.  My children know about my grandparents, in fact they love to hear about them; we named them all a little differently than I did as a child, just to make it easier for them to know who was who. But there are funny stories about my great Aunt's and Uncles that just seem to be getting left behind. And it's not just the memories that I am concerned are fading, I worry that there's a whole era in history that my children can't quite get their head around. My grandparents were raising a family during and post World War II. I am raising a family now in an age that probably would have blown their minds! I can barely imagine how it must have been then, so how on earth can my children? Maybe because theWorld War's were such a big thing back at home (obviously...!), and the way they taught them always made us feel like it actually wasn't that long ago. I mean, when you can study the Norman Conquest of Britain in 1066 in the same year as World War II, then the late 1930's and early 1940's really were just yesterday. Maybe because I am interested in it, so I place too much emphasis on it. But it feels like it defined a nation and became part of who we are, how we react to disaster, and how we came out of it. My children are half British, which begs the question - will they feel that too?
But I digress...the fact is, if my children are the kind of people who are interested in that kind of stuff, then I guess the questions will come. And if they're not, that's ok too. In the meantime, I'm going to figure out a way to get my parents to record all their memories....because they don't have smart phones.