Memories are made of this
If your memory is playing tricks on you take heart, you’re not the only one. Our mind may do strange things as we age but good memories really can last a lifetime.
According to well-documented research, as we grow older our shortterm memory deteriorates and long-term memory improves. By that criteria I reluctantly admit I must be in a holding pattern between both stages as most days I struggle to remember (by lunchtime) whether I had breakfast or not; what I ate (if I did); and when and where and with whom.
Perhaps this explains why photographs become more important and we cherish those snapshot moments that we know will never be repeated. Memory is also, as we well know, defined and refined by whoever reviews it and is dependent on their attitude to what took place. Blessed are those who see past events through rose-tinted glasses. Never allow anyone to deride this gift. Imagine if all you retained from each milestone in your life were the negative aspects of it. Having said that though consider also the gaps that would occur in dinner party conversation if we had no horror stories to relate about our more entertaining misadventures! Once relegated to the past even the most disastrous events have a human element that renders them less harmful and humorous when shared. Fascinating how hindsight can do that.
In a recent conversation with one of my sons he related an incident I thought I had completely forgotten. Prompted, I remembered it but for different reasons. The incident had stayed with my son because it had helped him recognise what he needed from an intimate relationship. Reflecting on what he had said I realised that my memories are constructed around moments with both sons that demonstrated their love, nurturing, protection and concern for me. They still remember the whole story while I took only a fragment to be added to my treasure chest of ‘things to comfort me when I am old and grey and feeling alone.’
Memories are made up of seemingly insignificant moments that leave a lasting impression. Our memories are largely defined by feelings – good or bad. Over time what tends to happen is we forget the detail of each incident but retain the residual feelings which were attached to it. Like an old photo whose lustre has dulled memories only need a ‘dustup’ to regain their original splendour. And looking back we see each one through a prism coloured by accumulated events with that person. If our relationship is sustained and continues to be a loving, supportive one, then the subconscious feelings are positive. Negative feelings conversely come when we rewrite history to justify unhappy outcomes e.g. ‘I always thought he had shifty eyes’, or ‘She flirted with every man she met’. We have all experienced times with our partners or friends when a past event is being discussed and your recollections are so diverse that you begin to wonder if you are talking about the same subject.
Our children forget how they leant their original lessons and retain only the automatic responses to long-held patterns of behaviour. As parents, our actions create reactions in our children and determine their long-term character. At the end of the day, to a large degree, our children define us. They are the living example of all our core beliefs, principles and attitude to life and become our legacy. They in fact mirror us and this is what they will hand on to their own children.
As parents few of us get it right (mind you each definition of ‘right’ will be different). Children don’t come with a how to manual and most of us, despite vows to do it differently, reflect the parenting we ourselves received. And sometimes, we deliberating choosing to take the opposite tack we end up with the same disas-trous results. As an example if we consider that our parents have been unreasonably strict we will tend to be more lenient; if we lacked supervision we overcorrect in structuring our own children’s lives. Frankly I think it’s a miracle so many turn out so well.
An only child, whose parents died very young, and a divorcee the two most important relationships in my life were my sons. I know I always meant well, loved my children with every fibre of my being, and did my very best but I always felt inadequate and believed I was at best a flawed mother.
Becoming a grandparent gives us another chance. We have this wonderful opportunity to shape and influence our precious grand-children in a very special way. Unhampered by the need to be the disciplinarian, and hopefully wiser from past experience, we can share our knowledge and pass on the benefits. Grandparents can provide a safe harbour – a place for children to come to where they are loved unconditionally and can enjoy special privileges. So long as we support the morals and guidelines their parents have set we are free to indulge our grandchildren. We have more time and patience and can provide an atmosphere where children feel there is no judgment or pressure and they are free to share their deepest thoughts and feelings.
These are the times that will sustain us as we grow older. The unreserved love and spontaneous affection children give us is a gift beyond measure. And in this environment we have the opportunity to reinforce healthy and beneficial traits and correct those that are fundamentally damaging and restrictive to a happy and productive life. It is interesting to note that physiologists say that children from the most dysfunctional families can be saved if they have one mainstay in their lives – one person who they know loves them.
One memory I am determined to keep alive is of a conversation I had with my grandson Steane when he was seven years old. We were about to return him to his parents after a sleepover with me. En route to the garage he said ‘Can we have the roof off our little car Nanny?’ Well of course we could and as it was a beautiful day it would make the trip more enjoyable.
As we were driving I asked him if he was doing anything new at school. He responded by telling me that he was attending religious classes and learning about God. ‘Do you believe in God?’ I asked. ‘Oh yes’ he said. ‘Have you seen Him?’ I queried. Steane giggled and said ‘Of course not Nanny.’ ‘So’ I said ‘how do you know He’s there if you can’t see Him?’ ‘I just do’ was his emphatic response.
‘Well’ I said ‘what you have just demonstrated is an act of faith.’ ‘What’s that?’ he asked. Oh oh, I thought, now I’ve done it. How do I demonstrate this one? I thought quickly and pointing out to the clear blue sky said ‘Are there stars in the sky?’ Quick as a whip he said ‘Yes there’re there. We just can’t see them until it gets dark.’ ‘Wonderful’ I said, ‘but since we can’t see any sign of them how can you be sure?’ ‘Faith!’ he shouted getting the message instantly.
Wanting to cement the lesson I cast around and said ‘I’ve got a good one. How do you know you have blood in your veins?’ ‘Too easy’, he said getting into the swing of it and pointed out numerous cuts and scratches all over his sturdy little body; ‘give me another one’. ‘What about breath then? We all know that we need oxygen to breathe but we can’t see it.’ Now I know he is my grandson and I know I am a biased grandmother but this one really impressed me. He thought for a second then cupped his hands around his mouth and exhaling created condensation on the windscreen.
We were having fun and I recognised the opportunity I had here. So I laughed and said, ‘This one is a toughie. How do you know I love you?’ More giggles and a little punch ‘I just do Nanny. I just do.’ I surprised myself with the next one which turned out to be a gem. ‘Well then what does love look like?’ Almost without hesitation he turned up his 100-watt smile and said ‘lots of hugs and kisses and lots and lots of laughter’.
How do you put a value on that? Without the opportunity to write this article I would probably be left with the outcome. A strong unbreakable bond forged through the genuine intimacy created by sharing and caring between two people who openly demonstrate their love for each.
I have a box (which I regularly review) which holds special letters, cards and mementos that record the milestones in my life. I must remind my sons to burn them if I get too senile to remember because some of the memories are private but I am reluctant to discard them just yet. Traditionally story telling was the way we recorded our history and families remembered their origins. Today we record our passing through more obvious ways such photo albums, home movies and family quilts and there is a massive revival of scrap-booking. Less obvious, but often more powerful, is the setting of family traditions in the form of special outings or celebrations. We associate happy times with specific locations and annual events.
So manufacture special occasions with your grandchildren and use each opportunity to create a lasting memory that is infused with loving feelings. Retell stories about those times you shared and reinforce the message behind them. Focus on what they retained from the occasion by asking questions such as ‘how did that make you feel?’, ‘What did that look like?’, ‘And that was good because?’ Become their memory makers and keepers of tradition – make their legacy one that will enrich their lives and sustain them through difficult times.