Memory & the making of

Barbara Kinglsolver, author, (One of my faves) wrote, " It's surprising how much memory is built  around things unnoticed at the time."  As I reflect on my life and where I am today I affirm that quote.

I have tried a couple times today to talk to my cousin, Carol in FL.  We reunited you will see elsewhere in my blog in October in PA.   I have a question which she may not know and which I am sure she will not consider as important as it is to me--Joseph Bosman, a funeral card I found at my aunt's in PA.  John Bosman introduced my father to my mother. I learned this from Carol.  John married Julie who is still alive in PA.  John also  introduced  my father's brother & wife, that would be Carol's father, Edddie to her mother Esther.  And so my Grandma Anna said to John, "now you have married off my sons."  But they were long time family friends.  I have a photo of them in my father's book which I thought was Uncle Eddie and Esther, and which Chrissy (another cousin, Eddie's daughter and Carol's sister)   clarified. 

Well as someone whose parts of life are disconnected I am curious.  And if Bosman was a family connection why did no one ever tell me?  Or did they and while I was young and busy and otherwise occupied,  did I ignore it?   And so today at age 65 I am so curious as this maybe a part of my jigsaw puzzle to piece together for the picture.

Today I was looking through some wooden boxes and found two necklaces that Steve (with Jerry's help) bought me;  one a small "MOM" with a crystal heart in gold and another  with just a heart with a diamond speck.  I remembered when they were given to me.  MOM on Mother's Day long ago.  No one to call me Mom anymore.  Another on my birthday.  I think on  the memories of these, teary at times, and then snap myself back to the reality of today and the way life has happened. 

The other day I was changing dresser scarfs in the bedroom and wanted a long one to go over the big dresser because the lace one  was just too dusty.  Oh  I looked, but couild not find just what I wanted.  I have found several linen ones and  some of damask, but I want crochet or lace.  And then I missed my Aunt Jinx who died in July.  Because I could have called her, explained what I wanted and she would have crochetted one to fit  for me.  But that can no longer be.  And it's not just that I want something I cannot have...it's the realization and  reflection of what we lose as our family ties slip...there is no longer anyone to talk to about things.

My cousin Paula in  CA  calls and asks me about things; I am her only link to the family and to our grandparents.  I feel very old.  It is up to me to preserve our stories and our history.  And so after me, who cares?
So today I consider how to talk to granddaughter when she arrives Wednesday for a week.  My sense is that she is tying herself down to a losing proposition with her  boyfriend. An even worse losing proposition by whizing through remedial high school in the name of college (junior college in CA)  to do who knows what... That's one reason why we wanted to get her here for a visit.  Other than her phone calls at least she will be away from that dufus for a week + .  And I want her to know things;  things that she will not hear elsewhere.    Maybe we can have those conversations while I have her help me store away my angel collection till next year.  Maybe when we clean out the crystal and china in the hutch, a day long task.  At 19 she has not a clue about life's memories and how it will be important later in life as it is to me today.  As it is when I reconnect with my friends from childhood and high school.  Memory, it's what builds as we live our lives.  It is elusive in our 20's, 30's even 40's ....who cares about that old stuff.   But there comes a time and if we have not built the foundation  to that time, we will have nothing....barren land.

I do not want to idealize my life looking backwards to memory, but  to cherish those memories  I have.  Sometimes in our quiet times that is what is left.