Box Full Of Memories!

Yesterday I went to visit Mum and Dad at their home in Catisfield. Mum is now out of hospital and has had one of the rooms in their bungalow adapted to take all the equipment needed to make her life a little easier. Mother looked well enough and was on top form, which was good to see. This hasn't been the best of times for my parents and they are both still learning to cope with their new set of circumstances. With a medical bed and hoist installed, life should be a little more comfortable for them in the long run!

When sitting talking to my parents, we do what we always do and started talking about the old days, which does seem a popular subject as we get older and something I enjoy reminiscing about. I have always had an interest in family history and have managed to trace my paternal tree back to the 1540's, so conversing about memories of childhood, Grandparents and events long since past is something I look forward to.

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Dad retrieved several boxes of photographs from the hall cupboard, pictures I haven't seen for many years and it was great having a look though them all. There were old school photo's and numerous old family snaps, documenting different occasions as far back as the 1930s. Of course many of the faces were unknown to me, only brought to life by my parents, who knew those whose lives were captured during a brief moment in time.

One of the photographs that caught my eye was one of my Great Great Grandparents, taken in 1963, celebrating their 60th Wedding anniversary. As someone who has an interest in history, I was already aware of my Great Great Granny Annie, who was born in 1887, although a little confused about the dates. If the records were correct, these two got married in 1903, which would have made her sixteen years old at the time, unheard of today. Not only that but the cake looks like it says 1983, which of course isn't possible. I know many couples did get married in their teens, but by the standards of the day, this does seem particularly young.

My Great Great Grandparents had 22 children. Mum said to me, she was pregnant every single year that she used to go potato picking and was a hard worker during her life, always grafting, always busy. I remember as a child seeing a newspaper clipping from  the 1950s about my relations, who were by all accounts the biggest family in Hampshire at the time and one of the largest in the UK. The history contained in this photograph and many others are invaluable for a historian like me.

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Not only did Dad show me photographs, but there were also lots of documents, which I have yet to go through. One of the interesting pieces of ephemera I found, was the tag used on my cot, in the hospital where I was born, St Mary's in Portsmouth. It includes a wealth of detail, that I wasn't fully aware of. The name on the tag was Martin, which was going to be my original name, until my Grandmother put a stop to it. Apparently the name Martin was associated with a relation from the Liverpool side of our family who was always referred to as a 'snotty nose tyke!' (My Nan was always a bit of a snob!) Shortly afterwards my name was changed to Darren, named after a character from 'Bewitched' a popular television programme at the time.

This small piece of paper also has my weight, head circumference, length and time of birth indicated, details I didn't know, as well as recording the fact I was a forceps  delivery, showing that Mum had a difficult childbirth.

I never actually realised Mum kept all these invaluable documents, hospital wrist band, immunisation certificate and a rather sad letter noting a false or phantom pregnancy Mum suffered in 1969. My Mother truly believed she was pregnant with her first child, she had all the normal symptoms, but sadly it wasn't to be. Mum wanted a baby so much, that her body mimicked her emotional state. It must have been such a difficult time for her, and gives me an insight into just how she was feeling. I can never understand just how important it is for someone to want a child. You hear about couples that can't conceive all the time, but after Mum and Dads Marriage in 1966, they must have experienced those very same feelings; at times, Mum must have felt pained at the prospect of not being able to have kids. Appreciating what others go through, especially those closest is important. Mum has never talked about this period, fifty years ago, but I am now fully aware of just what happened and proud Mum and Dad went on to have my Brother and I, a long and happy marriage and kept such precious memories for me to share with the World.

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Memories are important to me; despite being estranged from my kinfolk for may years, I have always regarded my roots as significant, spending a lot of time digitising my life onto computer. I enjoy reliving the past, through photo's and videos, letters and documents, that I have transferred to an single hard drive. It has always been necessary for me to understand the events that shaped my life and the stories that made me the person I am. Without these pointers to the past, I am sure I would forget much of what has happened during my 48 years. I will spend the next few months transferring all my parents evocations to a more usable format and hope that one day others will also be able to add to our life story. Sadly I don't have any children, but my brother does and it is essential they understand the lives of those who are a part of their genealogy. Families are important because they are the links and bonds that keep us together, the catalyst for memories that remain forever and the motivators, and advisors that encourage endeavour.

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