Those are such precious memories! Thank you for sharing them with us.
One of my favourite memories is of a forested area where i spent many holidays as a child. Some years we camped there, other times I was on a holiday camp for kids - those were mostly great fun, with outdoor activities, walks, hikes... There were many waterfalls in the area, and forest walks. I knew the place like the back of my hand. Alas, it is no more. When I was 16 or 17, many of the plantations of trees were felled for logging, and I lost all my friends. I tried visiting two waterfalls that day, and they were strangers. I no longer recognised where I was walking. It's been 26 years and only recently can I share that without anger or tears.
My other safe place, which still carries good memories, is of practicing the piano. I would practice for an hour every day before school. It became my own space, a place where my mind could wander. Therapeutic. And very much needed, especially as a teenager.
Laurel, thank you so much for sharing your memories! I’m sorry the place you loved was destroyed. I often wonder if I can ever come back to Belarus, will I recognize anything there? I know that my childhood neighborhood has already changed a lot, and instead of the trees I loved and played around, there are huge concrete parking lots.
I love that your safe place is playing piano. This is something no one can take from you.
Unless one takes it away from oneself...which is precisely what I did. Which is also why I've never gone back on that decision 😕 Nowadays I cannot really claim a safe place, but I'm mostly stable, so it's ok. I've learned other techniques for dealing.
Thank you for sharing those stories Darya, it’s such a good life lesson to remember those things which gave and give us comfort and happiness. The very first thing that came to my mind was when my brother and I were small (though I am five years older than him so I can’t have been that small!), warm and cosy in freshly washed pyjamas in front of the fire with the alluring prospect of being allowed to toast our own marshmallows (very rare) or bread (more common). Feelings of absolute security and warmth and happiness. Also Friday afternoons with my grandfather after school from ages six to ten, playing cards, board games and being allowed a spider drink (usually Coke with a scoop of vanilla ice cream). Happy days!
Tanya, thank you so much for sharing your memories! I feel so warm just reading them, as it was me getting cozy in front of the fireplace or spending afternoons with Grandfather. I haven't known my grandfathers from both sides, and I always envied kids who had them and especially were close with them. It's so precious, and I'm so happy you had it in your life!
He was a lovely grandad, the best kind (the kind who would give you a hug and you’d find 50 cents in your pocket, back when that could buy lots of sweets or a big ice cream) but he died when I was 17. I knew my mother’s father and my father’s mother (their partners both died before I knew them or could remember much about them). I guess that relatively short amount of time with Poppa in particular makes the memories more precious to me as I get older.
I always wanted my future kids to have a Grandad, the one I never had. Growing up, I knew that my dad wouldn't be the Grandad I wanted for my children. I was right, as I currently don't have a relationship with him for many reasons. When I married my husband, I was so happy to see that he had a good dad, and my father-in-law immediately accepted me (unlike my mother-in-law, who needed more time). Unfortunately, he suddenly died 2 years ago at the age of 58, and now it seems that my kids won't have a grandad either. Even though I have a million other things to be sad about at the moment, when I think about it, it makes me very sad.
Nov 12, 2023·edited Nov 12, 2023Liked by Darya Zorka
Thanks for sharing. It made my day. I like being reminded that I am human
because you write so well I could sense that if I had been you I would have
valued the same memories.
I don't have many warm memories of my youth. My parents generation were as alien
to my generation as we were to them. Most of my youthful memories were about
the stress that comes with being poor in an affluent society. For sure,
money issue introduces stress into a family situation and my parents fought
constantly, as did most of my friend's parents did too. I, and it seemed almost all of my friends,
thought it perfectly natural to avoid our parents. Still, I have a couple of warm memories.
We lived close to enough to school that it was the norm to go home for lunch.
The walks home during winter could be very harsh. Because we lived near the
mountains, there was a constant westernly wind that both increased the chill factor
and often created white out conditions where visibility was limited. I always
experienced a sense of relief once I reach the driveway of home. There was a tall
fence that obscured my parent's house so I did not see any of it until I had literally
step onto the driveway. I could always see my mom's face in the window waiting.
I always tried to be "cool" and pretend all was OK and give her what was
in vogue at the time which was the two finger, peace sign, and she responded
with the same. She always had hot soup and cocoa waiting for me. She would ask
me questions about what I had learnt in school that day as I got up to go back.
I did not appreciate those moments until years later. Nothing special, but I
knew without a doubt that I was loved and years later I learnt that that fact
saved me from myself.
Another memory I have of my mother was one day I was reading a daily newspaper
at the kitchen table and for some reason I became really sad when I read about
a monkey who died having been sent into space. My mom could not see what I had
read but she saw that I was sad and asked me what was wrong. I was too vain to
tell her the truth because even at 9 years I knew I was being absurd.
She looked at me for a moment, exhaled a deep breath and then reach into her
pocket and gave me a quarter and told me to go and treat myself.
A quarter today is nothing, but back then it was like a million dollars and
it shocked me. My mom was an expert at knowing how to make some small gestures
at the right time. My personal financial situation did not change for many years,
even when I went to university. One time, I discovered that my mother had hidden
a few dollars in my jacket without me knowing. It was kind of comical because
I recall one time going hungry or something like without realizing that I actually
had a few dollars in my jacket. It may seem like we were close but as I wrote before I never knew
much about my mother personally. In fact, I learnt more about my mother after
she died than when she was alive. Life had been very cruel to her, yet she was
possibly the kindest person I knew but she hid it. That was the essence of my childhood.
My father was just as secretive. Life had been exceptionally cruel to him as well,
which I never fully appreciated until I was a father myself. One day I received a letter
from the government of Canada (I was my father's legal guardian at the time) that said he was possibly entitled to part of a settlement involving what happened inside the Residential school system which is now known to have been some sort of factory of child abuse towards native Indians. I thought the letter was a mistake but when I telephoned my mother and asked why he would be
entitled to anything because his ancestry is Danish, she told my that when he was child, poor people,
if they could not afford to take of their children would placed them in the
residential school system and he had once been a resident there. That totally surprised me
and there was more, but the point is my father was an extremely private person,
and extremely strict. He has issues as well, but he took his responsibility for being a father
to a young boy very serious.
So, one day, out of the blue, my father informs me that we are going for a walk.
We did not have a car. I never liked being with him, but I knew better to say no.
We walk for about 4 miles which was a very long ways for me. He never said
where we were going, but we arrived at a movie theatre which I had never been to,
nor knew what one was....We sat down, and for the next two hours I was completely
spellbound for he had taken me to see the original Planet of the Apes movie.
It was in color, and I had never seen anything in "color" before. And, like before,
we never talk on the way home after the movie, but this time I did not mind for
the movie really had a profound effect on my imagination. I think my father understood
that it would but never said anything before or after...that too represents
the essence of my childhood, and where my thoughts go to when I wonder about who I am.
David, thank you so much for sharing your memories and taking the time to post them here! I loved reading them, and I relived these moments from your childhood with you. My family also struggled with money, and my parents fought a lot as well. I also didn't appreciate the kindness of my Mom and the way she always tried to make our lives better and to be present in them. I started to cry when I wrote the last sentence of the last story, that happiness is sitting in the kitchen with your family. I took those evenings for granted and can't have them now, as my childhood home is abandoned and my family is scattered around the world. However, I'm happy that I had these moments, and I can remember them with much more appreciation now, so do you.
The story of when your father took you to the movie touched my heart, as it shows his love for you and that despite the circumstances and past trauma, he still tried to do his best. I don't have many good memories of my dad, as he was always absent and became very abusive over the years, but I have a few, and I cherish them.
Those are such precious memories! Thank you for sharing them with us.
One of my favourite memories is of a forested area where i spent many holidays as a child. Some years we camped there, other times I was on a holiday camp for kids - those were mostly great fun, with outdoor activities, walks, hikes... There were many waterfalls in the area, and forest walks. I knew the place like the back of my hand. Alas, it is no more. When I was 16 or 17, many of the plantations of trees were felled for logging, and I lost all my friends. I tried visiting two waterfalls that day, and they were strangers. I no longer recognised where I was walking. It's been 26 years and only recently can I share that without anger or tears.
My other safe place, which still carries good memories, is of practicing the piano. I would practice for an hour every day before school. It became my own space, a place where my mind could wander. Therapeutic. And very much needed, especially as a teenager.
Laurel, thank you so much for sharing your memories! I’m sorry the place you loved was destroyed. I often wonder if I can ever come back to Belarus, will I recognize anything there? I know that my childhood neighborhood has already changed a lot, and instead of the trees I loved and played around, there are huge concrete parking lots.
I love that your safe place is playing piano. This is something no one can take from you.
Unless one takes it away from oneself...which is precisely what I did. Which is also why I've never gone back on that decision 😕 Nowadays I cannot really claim a safe place, but I'm mostly stable, so it's ok. I've learned other techniques for dealing.
I hope you'll discover or create new safe places along the way, whatever works best for you.
Thank you for sharing those stories Darya, it’s such a good life lesson to remember those things which gave and give us comfort and happiness. The very first thing that came to my mind was when my brother and I were small (though I am five years older than him so I can’t have been that small!), warm and cosy in freshly washed pyjamas in front of the fire with the alluring prospect of being allowed to toast our own marshmallows (very rare) or bread (more common). Feelings of absolute security and warmth and happiness. Also Friday afternoons with my grandfather after school from ages six to ten, playing cards, board games and being allowed a spider drink (usually Coke with a scoop of vanilla ice cream). Happy days!
Tanya, thank you so much for sharing your memories! I feel so warm just reading them, as it was me getting cozy in front of the fireplace or spending afternoons with Grandfather. I haven't known my grandfathers from both sides, and I always envied kids who had them and especially were close with them. It's so precious, and I'm so happy you had it in your life!
He was a lovely grandad, the best kind (the kind who would give you a hug and you’d find 50 cents in your pocket, back when that could buy lots of sweets or a big ice cream) but he died when I was 17. I knew my mother’s father and my father’s mother (their partners both died before I knew them or could remember much about them). I guess that relatively short amount of time with Poppa in particular makes the memories more precious to me as I get older.
I always wanted my future kids to have a Grandad, the one I never had. Growing up, I knew that my dad wouldn't be the Grandad I wanted for my children. I was right, as I currently don't have a relationship with him for many reasons. When I married my husband, I was so happy to see that he had a good dad, and my father-in-law immediately accepted me (unlike my mother-in-law, who needed more time). Unfortunately, he suddenly died 2 years ago at the age of 58, and now it seems that my kids won't have a grandad either. Even though I have a million other things to be sad about at the moment, when I think about it, it makes me very sad.
I’m so sorry Darya, that’s really sad for you, your husband and your future family. That’s far too young to die.
❤️🩹
Thanks for sharing. It made my day. I like being reminded that I am human
because you write so well I could sense that if I had been you I would have
valued the same memories.
I don't have many warm memories of my youth. My parents generation were as alien
to my generation as we were to them. Most of my youthful memories were about
the stress that comes with being poor in an affluent society. For sure,
money issue introduces stress into a family situation and my parents fought
constantly, as did most of my friend's parents did too. I, and it seemed almost all of my friends,
thought it perfectly natural to avoid our parents. Still, I have a couple of warm memories.
We lived close to enough to school that it was the norm to go home for lunch.
The walks home during winter could be very harsh. Because we lived near the
mountains, there was a constant westernly wind that both increased the chill factor
and often created white out conditions where visibility was limited. I always
experienced a sense of relief once I reach the driveway of home. There was a tall
fence that obscured my parent's house so I did not see any of it until I had literally
step onto the driveway. I could always see my mom's face in the window waiting.
I always tried to be "cool" and pretend all was OK and give her what was
in vogue at the time which was the two finger, peace sign, and she responded
with the same. She always had hot soup and cocoa waiting for me. She would ask
me questions about what I had learnt in school that day as I got up to go back.
I did not appreciate those moments until years later. Nothing special, but I
knew without a doubt that I was loved and years later I learnt that that fact
saved me from myself.
Another memory I have of my mother was one day I was reading a daily newspaper
at the kitchen table and for some reason I became really sad when I read about
a monkey who died having been sent into space. My mom could not see what I had
read but she saw that I was sad and asked me what was wrong. I was too vain to
tell her the truth because even at 9 years I knew I was being absurd.
She looked at me for a moment, exhaled a deep breath and then reach into her
pocket and gave me a quarter and told me to go and treat myself.
A quarter today is nothing, but back then it was like a million dollars and
it shocked me. My mom was an expert at knowing how to make some small gestures
at the right time. My personal financial situation did not change for many years,
even when I went to university. One time, I discovered that my mother had hidden
a few dollars in my jacket without me knowing. It was kind of comical because
I recall one time going hungry or something like without realizing that I actually
had a few dollars in my jacket. It may seem like we were close but as I wrote before I never knew
much about my mother personally. In fact, I learnt more about my mother after
she died than when she was alive. Life had been very cruel to her, yet she was
possibly the kindest person I knew but she hid it. That was the essence of my childhood.
My father was just as secretive. Life had been exceptionally cruel to him as well,
which I never fully appreciated until I was a father myself. One day I received a letter
from the government of Canada (I was my father's legal guardian at the time) that said he was possibly entitled to part of a settlement involving what happened inside the Residential school system which is now known to have been some sort of factory of child abuse towards native Indians. I thought the letter was a mistake but when I telephoned my mother and asked why he would be
entitled to anything because his ancestry is Danish, she told my that when he was child, poor people,
if they could not afford to take of their children would placed them in the
residential school system and he had once been a resident there. That totally surprised me
and there was more, but the point is my father was an extremely private person,
and extremely strict. He has issues as well, but he took his responsibility for being a father
to a young boy very serious.
So, one day, out of the blue, my father informs me that we are going for a walk.
We did not have a car. I never liked being with him, but I knew better to say no.
We walk for about 4 miles which was a very long ways for me. He never said
where we were going, but we arrived at a movie theatre which I had never been to,
nor knew what one was....We sat down, and for the next two hours I was completely
spellbound for he had taken me to see the original Planet of the Apes movie.
It was in color, and I had never seen anything in "color" before. And, like before,
we never talk on the way home after the movie, but this time I did not mind for
the movie really had a profound effect on my imagination. I think my father understood
that it would but never said anything before or after...that too represents
the essence of my childhood, and where my thoughts go to when I wonder about who I am.
David, thank you so much for sharing your memories and taking the time to post them here! I loved reading them, and I relived these moments from your childhood with you. My family also struggled with money, and my parents fought a lot as well. I also didn't appreciate the kindness of my Mom and the way she always tried to make our lives better and to be present in them. I started to cry when I wrote the last sentence of the last story, that happiness is sitting in the kitchen with your family. I took those evenings for granted and can't have them now, as my childhood home is abandoned and my family is scattered around the world. However, I'm happy that I had these moments, and I can remember them with much more appreciation now, so do you.
The story of when your father took you to the movie touched my heart, as it shows his love for you and that despite the circumstances and past trauma, he still tried to do his best. I don't have many good memories of my dad, as he was always absent and became very abusive over the years, but I have a few, and I cherish them.
Thank you for evoking the images of more innocent times!
Thank you, Mark!