Mammen

Memories are like clouds. Good memories are the large fluffy white ones while the bad memories are dark and threatening. As we accumulate memories through the years we just assume the good ones will be with us forever as we go on with our lives. We will choose to forget those that are dark and threatening and hope they will disappear. This works for a while; however, as we grow older our memories, even the good ones, begin to slip away.

Sometimes there is something that will spark a memory to reappear and that has a possibility of giving us great joy as we recall a special event or time in our lives. Such has been for me this past week.

There are not many in La Grande who are old enough to remember 70 years ago when a beautiful young British woman named Elizabeth was crowned the Queen of England. And of you who are of age, do you have any memory of that event? As I listened to the funeral for Queen Elizabeth this morning it took me back 70 years to the then 12-year-old girl who was very much into the momentous occasion.

I cannot say whether my family living on Findley Avenue in Zanesville, Ohio, sat around the black and white grainy picture on our television set in the corner of our living room to watch any of the event, because I cannot really remember. But I do remember my excitement about the occasion because our neighbor down the street, Scottish-born Miss Jean Bigger, was in England for the occasion and was going to share it with me upon her return. When Jean came back she brought me treasures that I still have today. One was a beautiful Stewart plaid wool shawl and the other a small tartan coin purse.

The strange thing about this is although some of the memory I have held through all of these years is correct, one major part, to my surprise, was incorrect. When I decided to write this, I did some research on my neighbor friend and learned something very interesting. For all of these 70 years I have remembered Jean, yet when I did my research I learned that her name was actually Jane. As a young girl I very probably was encouraged to call her Miss Bigger when speaking with her since she was 61 when all of this happened. But memories seem to have a way of morphing until what we want to remember becomes the actual memory.

As I have grown older I realize the value of documenting memories. Keeping a diary of special occasions and a collection of hand-held photographs of loved ones or life-changing events are vital. These will help us hold on to those treasured memories, which will be a wonderful gift to future generations.

Keep looking up! Enjoy!