Really On Our Own

April was a difficult month for our family. My husbands father passed away, Toronto airport was closed for two days, and we did not know if we would be able to make his funeral. But we did make it, although it took 24 hours of travel. We had left home 23 years ago, sure we had been back and forth, visiting but this was different. Dad was the last of our parents. I had never really known my father, and the last decade both our mothers had left, this was the last link of us, to our past. You actually lose two generations. The one of your parents, and of their parents. They can tell you the history of your family and the one before.

With all the sadness, you still have to settle affairs, a lifetime of memories wrapped up in a box. My mother had been a story teller, so I knew a lot about our family. But my good mother and father were quiet, so far as remembering the past. I would ask, so to record how they had lived and those before them. They had come from a different world to me anyway. Each generation sees things differently too.

Sometimes Dad didn't really want to be bothered with the past, but I would insist and he would tell, not all, but a lot of the important memories. I look back and wish I had asked more though. There was so much he could have told. Life passes and there is a new beginning, but for the future, you must know your past.

I guess what I'm really trying to say is, talk with your parents, there's no time like the present, get to know your own history. It may not be what some call "famous" but it's all yours and should be recorded for future generations. I'm glad I asked, I got to know our parents a little bit better, and that box of memories means so much more, knowing the history behind it.

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