Stockpiling memories...

I've got no idea who Emily Rose is but if you click on the image you can have your own memory box. Although its a useless idea for my Nana and I...neither of us would remember where we put it!"


Right now as I type this lying in bed, longing for sleep, I should instead be coloring my hair. That chasm between the last hair color and the Greys growing in passed the point of 'not really noticeable' about a week ago!

It's pretty bad...and the thing is the hair colour box has been here for ages but I just haven't done it. I find it funny when people notice or I talk about my grey hair and they ask how old I am? For me age never really came into it. I first noticed grey hairs just after I had my first child...I was 26.

Truth is I think that early grey hairs run in my Mums family..like so many of our other connections. Get us in a room together and there is not much doubt as to our connected blood lines! Put the baby or toddler photos together of my mother, mine, my daughter, cousins..etc and you are hard pressed to identify who is who. We have much in common us lot!

Our habit of getting up to mischief whenever we are together, the crafty gene that is among us all, our penchant of being incredibly loud whenever we are in each others company. The best thing I believe is our sense of humour, be it black, sarcastic or normal? We know how to take the piss out of each other and make light of situations...even when they are not particularly humourous.

It's all these things that we have in common that has made me decide to not only blog again but to blog regularly about the everyday and our life. To record the journey we are taking as we make it on our own. I want a record for them and I to look back on of our days. I want to record just what it is like and feels like to be a teacher and the privilege I feel to do this job.

Not too long ago I imagined that I would always be able to tell my story, that I would always remember and rejoice in these times as either happy and fond times or times which make me wince but from which I grew and moved forward. But something has happened over this year which has made me think that perhaps it is fools gold to assume (when you assume you make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me') that I will always have such luxuries.

My beautiful, wonderful Nana was my before and after care program everyday of my primary school years. I would spend every holidays there too as my parents worked full time. She is the strongest and most beautiful person I know. She would tell me stories of bringing up her nine children that would fill me with awe. When I'd grown up and returned to visit weekly, she would dote on my babies, remembering every detail of our visits, laughing at our precious memories and retelling them to me through my baby years when I was too tired to even remember what day it was.

My lovely, wonderful Nan doesn't recite stories anymore, infact she often forgets things just after she has said them. She becomes confused very easily, by people and situations or things that do not seem right. She will repeat things....often. Her sister is the same, although her forgetfulness started before my Nan's at a time when she was aware enough to notice it her sisters memory loss. Now they have conversations on the phone nary remembering a detail once those conversations are complete.

There is yet a name for this and although we are all worried about it, when together we are coping in the best way we know how. To laugh and make jest of the situation for to do otherwise could see us crumble and that is just not something that the genes which she has passed through us all would ever allow!

So tonight, when I should be colouring my hair, or doing a load of washing or..sleeping (like 30 minutes ago when I started this!) I am instead writing this blog post. And tomorrow I will write another, and the next day another and another and another until I cannot write anymore. For these moments, thoughts, feelings, days...life...is so very precious.

Like a squirrel stockpiling nuts for the winter time, I'm on a mission to stockpile memories for days ahead when perhaps my own memory bank says "that'll do JAAK, that'll do!"