I was a mistake of that there is no doubt. My eldest brother was nearly 20 when I was born and my youngest sister 7 years older than me. Dad was 43 and Mum 37 and in 1954 that was pretty old to be parents.
I was surrounded by old people. My Granny, Mum’s mum, lived in the wing of our house and when she died in 1963 my Dad’s dad moved in. All of them spent a lot of time with me and all told me stories of their lives and their parents lives. It was so boring. Perhaps it was mildly interesting the first time but eventually I knew them word for word and could correct the raconteur if they went a bit wrong or mixed up two stories.
They are all dead now and I realise that those tales now only exist in my head. If I don’t get them out and put them somewhere they are lost forever. I do a lot of family research and for so many of my ancestors I only have dates. Birth, marriage and death. How I wish I could find a Blog with stories of their lives. But they are gone and so are their stories.
This Blog is all about capturing memories so my family will live for ever.