You don’t have to be mourning a loss to want to preserve memories of what he or she said. Capture your memories of voices from the past by writing down short descriptions of what your loved ones say or said.
Writing about your earliest memory can present a challenge. Often, they’re not coherent. You might only remember a room, a noise, or impressions. However, writing about your earliest memory or memories and explaining why they matter can provide a meaningful glimpse into your childhood.
It’s fun to compare something we all share
It’s fun to compare your own early memory with the earliest memories of loved ones. Most of our earliest memories date back to age three of four, though some people have even earlier memories.
Memories: Why We Repress Them & How to Recover Them
Part two of a series by Bobbi Parish-Logie
Welcome back everyone to part two of my short series about memories from the perspective of neuroscience and mental health. Last week I talked about how our brain stores memories and why it represses them. This week let’s dive into how to recognize that we have repressed memories and how to recover them.
Our brain has varying degrees of repressing memories. Some are determined so dangerous to our emotional health that they are locked into compartments so tightly and so far away from anything that would trigger their recall that those memories aren’t ever intended to be recovered. Other memories that the mind has determined to be dangerous to our well-being in the moment but potentially safe to recall at a later date, will be locked away with a thread of their substance dangling from the box. At some point in the future, when the brain determines it is safe, it will allow that thread to be connected to a circumstance or experience that will pull that repressed memory from its box.
Life isn’t always about winning, so it makes sense that we’d want to write about the agony of defeat as well as about our accomplishments. In fact, these stories of missing the mark are often the ones that connect us to family members, resonating because we all know that agony of defeat.
However, the difference between a simple loss and an epic disappointment isn’t always self-apparent. For example, watching the Olympics it’s clear that for some athletes, making it to Sochi was the victory. For others, “winning” a silver medal is the agony of defeat.
I’m excited to introduce Bobbi Parish-Logie and the first of two guest posts on repressed and recovered memories. It’s a topic that can help all of us connect to our stories.
How the Brain Stores Memories
As a Mental Health Counselor who specializes in working
We know writing is therapeutic for the writer. (If you don’t, refer back to Write about Memories: It’s Therapeutic! and Ovarian Cancer: Journaling and Healing). But that’s not the full extent of it. Here are a few of the ways that your writing is therapeutic for your readers.
Your Story is Their Story
Very few stories have only one character. Your stories include other people—
When we think about romance, we think about young love—star-crossed lovers and all that. We often forget to honor the enduring relationships. When you remember the romance, don’t forget to remember the long-term love affairs of older family members.
Today’s post is part of the Craft Squad’s “Love is in the Air” February Blog Hop. To start at the beginning of the hop, please visit The Crafty Neighbor where you can learn how you can win cool crafting prizes. If you’re coming from Stamp-Patty’s, you’re in the right place.
Stories matter. Not just the bare bones stories based on facts, but the rest of the story. Personalities, proclivities, relationships, and experiences are an important part of preserving your family history.
Flynn Coleman makes a good case for this in his article Only Connect: Why Your Story Matters. Huffington Post writers don’t usually need my help in stating their case, but just this once I’ll help Mr. Coleman out with an illustration.
I decided to compare what I know about my second great grandfather from research as opposed to my grandmother’s “Treasure Chest of Memories.” I hope that it will bring home the importance of sharing and documenting family stories. You won’t just be providing the rest of the story. You’ll be facilitating a connection between the family members, past and present.
Photos of people laughing—especially group shots of people laughing—are jewels for memory keepers. A picture tells a thousand words; we love seeing the happiness and camaraderie. However, many times there’s a story behind the smiles and we still need words to tell the story.
Story behind the Smiles
It annoys me to no end that I can’t remember what we were laughing about in the photo to the left. At the time that I took it (with a remote), I thought I would always remember what the joke was. But I don’t. Although the joke is frozen in time on our faces, the story behind the smiles is currently lost to me.
I used to hate my dream of a visit from my late father. Waking up to the reality of my loss was brutal. I didn’t want to go there if it had to end.
Now it’s like re-reading a favorite book.
It always starts the same—in the cemetery. As we round the curve to their grave-sites, Daddy is sitting on his gravestone, one foot of the ground. He sees me with a got a cat-that-got-the-canary look on his face. He’s laughing. I run into his arms, crying with relief. He hugs me.