So officially I am an orphan. I lost both my parents in the last ten years, and my grandparents many years earlier. But they are not really gone, as long as I remember them.
And I have many memories.
I remember them in my thoughts, on special days and when I go to lift the phone to my dad and then stop, or see young lambs in a field and think of how much my mum loved them. When I see a dahlia blooming, I remember how proud my Granny was of the display in her garden. Cream cakes and story tellers remind me of my other Nanny, a strong woman whose example and fortitude still inspire me today. My Grandad, who was the first person I knew who worked until his final illness, a charming sailor turned salesman. He always had his 40 winks after lunch, followed by a small glass of whiskey placed on the special tray attached to his armchair. My other Grandad was quiet but loving and musical.
They also passed on some wonderful genes: ability at maths, music and map reading, late onset wrinkles and grey hair, flexibility, determination and stubbornness.
After they died all I really wanted from them was a few special mementos, things that I can use or see every day, and think of them:
My Dad's books:
My Mum's sewing basket:
The bookcase my Grandad made:
The sheet music my other Grandad collected during his life, some of it played many times:
I wish I had written down their stories while they were still able to share them, but many of those memories are still there, I just need to find the time to record them somewhere, as well as all my memories of our time together. But I am very grateful for everything they left to me. It's a wonderful legacy, and thinking about it is my reason to be cheerful for this week.
This post was inspired by a chat with Jazzygal.