I often wonder what the grandchildren will remember of their childhoods. Particularly, in my solipsistic way, I wonder what they'll remember of their time with us. Grandson and Biggest Granddaughter spend a lot of time in our house so I would hope they'd remember quite a bit - they're now 6 and nearly 8. But one of my grandmothers left Edinburgh when I was 5 (I think) and I remember nothing at all of her living here except being at the foot of her stairs, which were quite interesting. (Our house didn't have stairs.) Do I really remember this or am I imagining it?
Memory is so odd. We all remember lots of things that we wouldn't think worth putting in a memoir - I remember getting a new school uniform cardigan and quite looking forward to going to school, wearing it. Why do I remember that? It doesn't seem very interesting. I also remember sitting on the top of a bus at Jock's Lodge and looking across at the people on the top of a bus waiting at the traffic lights beside us and thinking: I must remember this when I'm older. I wish I'd made more effort to fix in my mind more significant moments.
The other day, Biggest Granddaughter and I were discussing scissors with zig-zaggy edges. I told her that they were called pinking shears, and also that the flowers called pinks were called that because of their zig-zaggy petals, not because they were pink. (Always the teacher...) And then suddenly, from the very depths of my memory, I thought about a play - a musical play, I think - that my elder brother was in at school when he was a small boy. I remember going to it. I think it was just in a classroom rather than a big hall - but I might be wrong. Perhaps we were just in the classroom to get him dressed for the show. Anyway, it was a boys' school so my brother - who must have been about 7 or 8 - was in the chorus as a girl. He wore a yellow skirt - and here's the relevant bit - with a pinked, rather than sewn, hem. He also had a yellow mob cap, also with a pinked edge, and I think there was an actual pink-coloured bow on it. Was there also a pink bow on the skirt? I think some of the other boys had pink skirts with yellow decoration. Seems like cruelty to small boys but I don't remember my brother complaining.
I believe my mother had to make this costume, with material supplied by the school. I don't know whether the pinking was just her short-cut or part of the brief. Anyway, I think it may have ended up in my dressing-up box, where I wore it for a few years.
I hadn't thought of this for ... half a century? What else is lurking there in the recesses of my mind, ready to pop up? And in yours?
Memory is fascinating; it seems like it's a jigsaw puzzle and we only remember random pieces of it. I was 5 when my maternal grandmother died, and I don't have many memories of her. I remember her yelling at grandpa, who deserved it, I'm sure!
ReplyDeleteAs I age, it's very interesting to reach far back into my memory. My grandmother was from Belguim and spoke very little English. I remember sitting on her knee and being bounced as she sang a child's nursery song in Flemish. She was born in 1883. Patty McDonald
ReplyDeleteI remember many things from my childhood, but not the important ones I would like to remember. But they are a joy. I spend a lot of time with my grandchildren, but have no idea what they will recall...
ReplyDeleteI understood that you lay down a memory when there is a strong emotion attached to the occasion. It seems true for me,
ReplyDeleteI don't feel that the yellow skirt episode was particularly emotional. But maybe it was my first experience of my brother playing a role?
DeleteI was just writing about this today - the fact that once you start thinking back in detail, subconscious memories pop up that have squirrelled themselves away but only need a little stirring ....
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