My mother and her sister Willie, the last of the family generation of my mothers side, on the other side there is only one member of this generation alive, the sister of my father Janny. The two sisters having breakfast squabble about anything like little sisters do. They giggle and chatter about their old boyfriends and how they kissed behind the church. Watching old familypictures one suddenly realizes that in a few years nobody remembers the names of the people on these pictures anymore. What do we know of these people, how did they meet, what did they do, where did they live?
How fragile we are...
3 comments:
How right you are. It is a certain age, when we finally see that wheel of life leaving behind the history we are connected to by memory, knowing it is unique to us and that we too are destined for the same fate.
Laurie
Indeed. Having attempted some cursory geneological research on my parents and grandparents (all dead) it comes as a sad fact that if one doesn't leave a written record behind, no one will know anything about you.
And So It Goes...
Hey Gerrit - It's so good to find your blog, and get to meet you "in person." I always enjoy your comments on our group blog, The Blue Voice.
thebluevoice.blogspot.com
It's great to have a European point of view on the issues we discuss.
This was a lovely post, and a lovely picture. You're lucky to still have your mother and aunt around to enjoy. - Mary Ellen
Post a Comment