I’ve been wanting to post something about lasting memories for quite some time now. Katrina talked about Pete in a previous post. I’d like to talk about myself and ask you a question about yourself. This idea came back to me two weekends ago when we were on Vancouver Island. We stopped off at a friend’s house so that Katrina could get a haircut. Jordan and Laura are an amazing couple. We photographed their wedding in 2009 and it was fun to flip through their wedding album. It brought back a lot of memories.
When we were leaving their place, Ella decided that she wanted to go for a walk. We strolled though the rain down to a Trans Canada Trail Pavilion. These pavilions are across the country and in them are listed the names of those who’ve made donations. My name is on this pavilion (thanks to a donation by Jordan’s older brother Matt, who just happens to be the most extraordinary friend). After seeing the wedding album and seeing my name on the pavilion, I got to thinking. What’s left of me when I’m gone? In past times, a headstone was left in the family plot, genealogy traces history through public documents, but what really is left when we pass?
Through our lives we impact many people, hopefully in a positive way. As individuals we leave memories with all those we have contact with. But what happens when Ella asks about my grandma? I can only tell stories, show her a name on a Trans Canada Pavilion, or show her photographs.
What am I trying to say here? I really don’t know exactly myself. I’m trying to say that to preserve memories we need to become story tellers. We need to write these stories down, we need to create and print these photographs, so that in the future your children’s children will be able to explain how you were able to impact their lives. Family history is a fascinating discovery when your grandma’s grandma is more than just a name on public document.
The Trans Canada Trail Pavilion.
Does your life come down to more than a name on a stone tablet?