Recently my Uncle Henry died and at this funeral, I learnt more about him than I had in the many years that I had known him. With a sense of family connection in mind I went to visit my Aunty Phyliis and her daughter Sherry to find out more about the family history.
What struck me most was a memory she had of my own childhood about my mother always carrying my older brother up the stairs and making me walk. When I mentioned it to my Mum, she didn't remember this and decided that it must have been my grandmother.
My six year old daugher remembers slights from over two years ago and holds onto them, long after everyone else involved has moved on. For myself, my recollection of events is often so different from my husband's, its as though we have been existing on parrallel universes.
There are so many recollections of the past which vary. It is interesting which ones stick in some people's minds and which take a back seat. No wonder history has so many different versions.
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