There is an unforeseen benefit to writing a blog about memories: the act of writing stirs long forgotten memories. As I type they drift in from the mists of time, initially sometimes as just a word or two, or in the form of a smell or a taste, and then a whole scene comes into focus.
One challenge I do have is sticking to the purpose of the memories part of the project (the other part is thoughts). I intended, and do intend, to record MY memories. Yet, quite frequently I find myself trying to write a memory as history, which it most decidedly is not.
Therapeutic
Writing memories also turns out to be quite therapeutic – helps one to understand and come to terms with the past. Helps one understand the extent to which our parents – and we ourselves – are products of their parents, their upbringing and their life experiences.
The memories offer something that might be read by our children, grandchildren or even great, great-grandchildren in the future. When one is young one is focused on oneself and later on one’s children. Much later in life, I have found that I would love to know more about my ancestors. Perhaps my descendants will feel the same. If they do, I leave them these fragments of my life.
A blog a day?
That was the target, a blog every day. In practice, I don’t do this. But I am being pretty successful at WRITING every day.
In practice, I find that I am working on several blog posts at the same time (it can take the brain some time to fill in a few more gaps. So I give the memory posts some time to mature. Sometimes I complete two posts. Sometimes none.
Becoming a blogoholic?
Why am I doing this? I like writing. I recently retired at 76, and I want to keep my mind active. I also think (egotistically?) that some of my thoughts and memories are worth sharing. But the readers will be the judge of that!
I find myself becoming immersed in this project. I have been a workaholic for much of my life. Am I now becoming a blogoholic, or is the latter simply an extension of the former?
Thoughts and Memories - Peter Mansfield 
Gosh Peter, I know the feeling. I have been writing about my childhood on our fruit farm at Ceres – from my earliest memory – and yes, it’s amazing how that, as soon as one starts writing, memories that have not been active for years or even decades, just come flooding back. And yes, extremely theraputic to boot!
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I have similar regrets. WHY did I not ask my mother more about her early life in India? Did her parents meet in India and marry or did they marry in the UK and come to India. Why was I so involved in my own life that I never asked these questions? My father was an artist and did much calligrapy and we have a family tree done by him so I know lots about my paternal side but little about my maternal grandparents except that they died before my mother was 23. It’s a great idea writing a blog about your life for your relatives to follow and read one day.
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Thank you Shannon
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