Simple Reminders

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A few weeks ago I posted blog called Sister Sunshine. I knew some of the objects in the photograph that accompanied the blog writing would elicit nostalgic thoughts from my sister. They did, but I also received e-mail communications from my cousin who stated:

“I loved the nostalgia arrangement photo you posted yesterday. Troll! Joy of Cooking! And the postcard with a picture of your black and white cat clock! (I always think of you and Jan when I see one of those clocks!)   I used to be scared of your cat clock, the first few times I saw it.

I had two, possibly three troll dolls, each with different colored hair. One was a little smaller than the usual ones. I loved twisting their long hair into different styles.

  I also remember collecting lightening bugs with you and Jan, and bringing a jar full of them back into the room for the night. … I always associate the cat clock with a jar of lightening bugs (did we call them fireflies then — are they the same?).  Now I feel bad about capturing those poor bugs. I don’t remember whether any of them lived through the night. Did we puncture holes in the jar lid and let them go the next day?…  We were enchanted by them.”

dinner bellYesterday when I spoke with the Routt County Council on Aging about memoir writing I mentioned that sometimes all it takes is seeing an object from the past to ring a bell and activate the brain. Memories from the dark recesses of our minds come to the forefront.

Some items, no matter how simple, such as the sight of our grandmother’s apron, brings such a visceral response it stimulates all of our senses. We often associate an apron with the taste of food, the aroma of the kitchen, the soft feel of loving hands that greeted us or remembering the voice of our mother calling out: Come Home its Supper Time

 

Tomorrow on All Things Fulfilling we will post some nostalgic images for baby boomers who grew up in families who loved to ski together.

See you on Monday! This blog is brought to you by award-winning author, Sue Batton Leonard.

 

 

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