Remembering

So, I had a moment during the week with Lyra that made me stop and think about the things we remember from childhood, the comfort of safe, sweet memories, and how they replicate from generation to generation.

I was dressing to go out when little Lyra-Lou, fresh from a bath, wet hair in ringlets and in a bright purple singlet, came marching into the bedroom to see what I was doing. She watched for a while in silence and then began asking questions, wanting to join in too. I put cream on her small chubby cheeks, lip gloss on her pouted lips, and brushed her hair; she looked at herself and at me with a lovely sense of wonder, before declaring that we were both very pretty, and skipping out of the room to show her Daddy.

I remember doing the same thing as a girl – watching my mother dress, carefully applying her makeup. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world; I expect most little girls feel the same way. And she would include me in her beauty routines in the same way – cream on my cheeks, brushing my long hair, maybe just the smallest touch of lipstick. And I can see the memory playing before me, and feel that same delight, thinking that she had magically transferred some of her loveliness to me.

Have you ever had a moment like that with your child – where a memory from your youth is played over?

Nat

Ps. I think this is my most favourite photo of Lou, in her beloved Wimcee headdress. When I took it, she was telling me about where things come from – juice comes from bees, yoghurt comes from bees, milk comes from a moo, and apples are from the fridge. Bless.

Grateful #13 - What are you thankful for today?

I remember my beloved grandmother saying, a very long time ago, that life goes by in the blink of an eye once you’re an adult, and to never wish your young days away. At the time, I was in my early teens and impatient for the idea of what being a grown-up really meant; and I wished with all my might for a decade to hurry up and pass, so I could do all the wonderful things I’d been dreaming of.

My Grandmother, Renee, as a young mother in India

I’ve been remembering my grandmother a lot lately; small, wise, softly spoken woman that she was. And she was right – as she usually was – time does slip away from you when you’re a grown up; weeks turn into busy months, and months tumble into years, and things happen faster than you could ever imagine.

With that in mind, this week I’m grateful for:

Timeless-ness. I’ve had to explain to the kids quite a lot lately about doing things ‘tomorrow’ or ‘next week’ or ‘another time.’ It’s still such a tricky concept for them to grasp, because everything is NOW! or in an hour, and the prospect of waiting, even a day, is often met with wails of disapproval.

But goodness, I like their idea of ‘right now’ - it’s so wonderfully spontaneous, and it sometimes makes me wonderfully spontaneous too.

Old fashioned advice. How wonderful is it to be given a good piece of advice?

(Alright, I freely admit that I’m not always 100% receptive to it; but when it’s relevant, done with kindness and in the spirit of genuine sharing, I do love and welcome it)

My Grandma was very good at advising in the gentlest, most considerate way, and it’s something that I’d like to emulate in my own life. Sometimes, I manage quite well; other times I’m so far off and rambling and should just keep my random pieces of advice to myself, thank-you-very-much. But in spite of my bumbling advisory tactics, I’m so grateful for the small tidbits of advice I’m personally given on a week to week basis, from trusted friends, family, chance-met strangers, my partner and even my children (who know all about everything and anything), because most of the time, it’s done in love and given in kindness, which really is a wonderful thing.

What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Want to play too? Link your grateful post to the delightful Maxabella Loves, or write your list in the comments section below x

I'll remember you...

Make loving memories wherever you can - That’s what I think every time I look into the sweet little faces of my niece Lou and nephew Judah.  Often, all Lou says to me is ‘no,’ and  I’ll watch Judah bite his lower lip when he’s about to crash tackle me out of frustration, but it’s all those little things and a million more that I don’t want to ever forget. 

    

It’s also one of the reasons why I started a memory book – so that all those quirky things they do wouldn’t be lost in the daily hustle and bustle of our lives; so that we’ll be able to look back in the years to come and remember the funny little people they once were.

The old cliché of ‘time flying’ really is true. After Lou came along, I began to see how many funny, heart-warming little moments with Judah I’d already forgotten; so, to make amends, every time I saw them, I began to write down short anecdotes – something that made my heart melt, something silly we’d had a conversation about, or something that made us all laugh out loud. It’s a record of the memory, of the day, of their age and their very distinctive personalities, and a way to keep it all close to my heart.

(Like this: I remember the day I held Judah in my arms for the first time; I was stunned firstly that he was a boy (as we had all convinced ourselves that a little girl was on her way), and then completely amazed that this little person had in an instant become such a huge part of my life - and I knew absolutely nothing about him yet)

These two little souls (and hopefully some more in the future) have taught me how important it is that we smile, giggle, and love each other, growing closer all the time - and my little memory book helps me document that journey.

How do you remember and celebrate family?  

Kim