I suspect the majority of us have lots of photos capturing special moments from our lives, from holidays to weddings and birthdays, gardens and those magical, often funny times. I too have loads but my biggest treasure is my Memory Box. No, not my brain, but a storebox full of those other mementos and keepsakes. In here is a collection of my life, the good and the bad. I was rifling through this yesterday in search of an item particularly pertinent to today, the third of September.
From the hospital record of my pregnancy to the order of service for my grandmother’s funeral plus sadly, many other relatives and dear friends who are no longer with us. The majority are reminders of much happier times.
A serviette and silver cake decoration from my sister’s wedding. Cards and gift tags and luck horseshoe from mine. Special cards, leaving cards, get well cards, Xmas cards; a letter of commendation from the police; letters from my mother (we used to exchange letters to keep in touch years ago because I never had a telephone), postcards, travel guides, theatre tickets and programmes, press cuttings, a video of the quiz show I took part in on television. The cork from a bottle of champagne enjoyed on my honeymoon and an envelope of first day cover stamps from Australia filled with other stamps from around the world. My daughter’s last school report, a Christmas folder she made at school. Wedding invitations. Thank you letters and cards.
So many things to ponder over and recall fondly and wonder where all the years have gone. In sorting through the box I quickly came to realise I need another box just for the kept special birthday and Christmas cards alone. One birthday card is extra-special – one that means the whole world and a rarity – one from my husband (he doesn’t do birthday cards so this was indeed so full of meaning and love!).
And there I was four hours later, still looking at all these things, opening folded letters from friends not read for a long time, the change of address notes. A complete set of decimal coins I won in a competition, and of set pre-decimal coins all dated the year I was born. Finally, at the bottom of the box, I found what I was looking for: several ringlets of my daughter’s hair from the first time she had it cut. She must have been 4 years old. Her beautiful mane that would curl up into soft ringlets when it was washed, I loved to twine it in my fingers. Sadly, after that first cut it went straight, and has remained so ever since. Such a shame.
But why were the ringlets pertinent to today. Well, today is my daughter’s 46th birthday. It seems like only yesterday when she arrived in this world, a tiny copper-haired bundle of life the relied on me totally for her survival. She and I have come a long way since that day. There’s been good times, dark times and funny times and, with good fortune and care, there will be lots more birthdays to come. Happy Birthday, Katie.
And time to pack the Memory Box away for the moment.
I definitely need a larger box.