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Everyday Memories

Ailish

Ailish

Administrator Emerita
I was talking to a friend the other night – and he reminded me that there is comfort in the simple things in life – from walking to work in the morning, to chores on the farm in the evening.

Many people I have spoken with – feel there is nothing “exciting” in sharing their past life memories of regular life. I completely disagree – I think there is beauty to be found in the most simple of memories – a smile between two people, a favorite “spot” in the forest, a family picnic….

"I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex." ~ Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)
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I am going to share a few moments from a couple different lifetimes – that were taken from my journals. They're simple, and not extremely exciting -- but they highlight everday life -- and they are treasures to me.

From Italy:

Luca is making fun of me. I have fallen from the tree in the yard and scraped my knees and elbows. He says I am a baby. I feel embarrassed and mad. I pick up a rock and throw it at him. I hear Papa call my name “Nicoletta!” and I know I am in trouble now. Papa grabs me by the arm – and takes me to the barn where the bad kids go. Luca was grinning. I am angry – it was his fault I fell in the first place. I am also scared because I don’t like spankings. But – Papa doesn’t spank me. He just takes me on his lap and tells me that rocks hurt and we must never throw them – even at naughty brothers. Then he tells me to go inside and help Mamma. I am relieved as I scurry towards the house.


From Wales:

It was getting dark and I was inside with Saya. She was making me spin. I hated it. Saya was distracted and a little short-tempered with me. I was doing a clumsy job. My hands did not want to spin. I wanted to be outside. Everything outside was fresh and clean, the smells of the forest upon the air, the scent of rain, the night sky -- it called to me. I was relieved and excited when Sohaila came to take me that evening. I flew across the room and into her arms, barely stopping long enough to grab my cloak. Saya did not approve. I could tell by the look on her face. She was angry and wanted me to stay in and do a proper job. Saya and Sohaila had words. I knew Saya's protests wouldn't matter...Sohaila could take me whenever she wanted to. I felt so happy that I was going to be freed from that dull chore that I disliked so much. I didn't even glance at Saya as I left -- I was angry with her for being "snippy" with me, and for her trying to stop me from going with Sohaila. The Priestess smiled down at me and I knew she understood what I was thinking. I didn't need to say the words aloud. I don't think she liked spinning either.


From Russia:

There is silence in the studio except the teacher counting as I stand at the barre. The sound of my slippers sliding across the floor as my teacher calls out corrections, lifting my leg, turning out my foot. My muscles are sore, my feet bruised and swollen – but I push through the pain. I know I must do better – be better, if I want to audition for the school next year. The pain is welcome – it is my dream.

From Kilkenny:

Mam was sitting on her special rock by the river. I was playing with a stick and throwing rocks into the water. Uncle Thomas was there and he was talking with Mam and she was laughing. I kept calling "Mammy! Look at me! Look!" and she'd glance my way and smile, then turn back to Uncle Thomas. I remember pestering him to chase me. He'd catch me in his arms and swing me around and around. I could feel the wind in my hair, and I'd throw back my head and giggle. I loved to feel like I was flying.

From Boston:

I was was playing at Victoria's house. We were in her front yard scooping up leaves and burying ourselves under them. Victoria took off her coat and told me to take off mine. I gave it to her and she draped them over some small shrubs in front of the house to make a little tent. We crawled into our tent and we were laughing because we thought no one could see us. Then I heard Daddy calling me, so I poked my head out. He was standing at the end of the front walk. He said it was time to go home now, so I ran down to him. He picked me up and swung me around. I ran back to get my coat and Daddy helped me put it on.
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I am interested in hearing your everyday memories from regular lifetimes…

Is there a particular moment you want to share?
 
HI Aili,

One of my favorite memories is of my mother walking with me wrapped in a blanket on her back. Like a sling. She later put me down by the goat and cattle pen behind our home. I was maybe a year and a half old. The sense of this life time was the Middle East a few thousand years ago...I recognized my home, my mother and the surroundings from meditations before. Snippets follow:

****I was about 4-5 years old, I am watching a few older boys, all around 10 -11 years old playing a game with special stones on the ground. They seemed so serious about it. They were small stones. The boys were all seated under a structure covering that hung from the side of a small building. I was too young to play or to understand the game, but I watched for a while.

*****I am about seven years old. My friend and I are in an animal pen behind her house. There are twin baby goats, new borns. We were sitting in the straw petting them, they were so cute, I could feel my heart smiling. :D One was black and brown, the other was black and brown with a white stripe on his chest. We were giggling and I was giggling in the meditation.

*****I am about ten years old, I am walking to my house. I looked down to see what I was wearing - a blue linen drape over my head, and a linen dress, with a dark red shaw tied in the middle and sandals. I noticed a bag hanging from my sash..a leather bag that thumped on my hip as I walked. It was small, but filled with stones - special stones to play a game. The same game I saw the boys playing when I was small. When they were my age now. I felt very proud.

*****I am somewhere - where the women are preparing food. I would rather be where the men are. :rolleyes:
 
Ailish,

Thanks for this post of everyday memories. I was beginning to associate my PL memories with mourning or depression. I wasn’t meditating because I didn’t want to experience more death.

I just mediated on my life in late 17th Century Holland and asked about everyday life:

I am digging in the garden for turnip like roots. My small son, who is about two, is with me. He has a shock of medium brown hair that I am always touching. I stand up and the boy hands me the vegetables from the ground and I put them in my apron to carry them into the house. The apron full of turnips and onions rests on my belly, I am very pregnant.
I enter the small house and start preparing dinner. A pot is hanging on an iron arm that is swung out in front of the fire place. My husband comes in with a skinned rabbit to add to the pot.

I now know that this life was in Spanish ruled Holland. Now I know why I like the movie “Girl with a Peal Earring” so much.

Patrick
 
II think there is beauty to be found in the most simple of memories – a smile between two people, a favorite “spot” in the forest, a family picnic….
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Definitely. I remember holding my little girl in my arms and how much I loved her and how much she loved me, and that's the best memory I've ever had.

If anyone wants exciting memories, I'd be glad to trade them some of mine for a few simple memories of good times or hijinks.

Phoenix
 
I love everyday memories, they are probably the most special to me.

these are all from my life from 1909-1948abt.

-One memory when i was little, probably 7 or 8, i was down by the stream looking for what i called "marsh babies", i can feel the afternoon sun, and the way the trees overlooked the stream and how cool the water was on my bare feet.

-another one when i was in my teens, 14-16 i was out in the street with some freinds, and the neighborhood boys were playing baseball, and we were watching them, and trying to play.but really we were just watching the boys and laughing. and it was summer, and late afternoon, and it remains one of my favorite memories.

-One when i was a little older, down by a bar, at nightime, with a man. and we were happy and laughing, and we walked home. such a simple memory, but i still feel the emotion.

-There are so many memories from when i was older and married, from just everyday life. Like cleaning the kitchen late at night before bed. making a roast, and not finding the salt and pepper, and getting angry. Up in my bedroom sitting at my vanity table looking out the window at the cars and people passing. one inparticular it was a gray day and kind of drizzling. and the cars were splashing by, and i was just up looking down kind of sad. Or memories of getting dressed and looking through my closet. I think the everyday memories make it real for me, becuase thats what they are. real..
 
Here are some memories from my past life as Lisbet, the little Ecuadorian girl:

I remember a lot of activity going on, lots of hustle and bustle and us kids were just getting in the way. Three adults, one of them was my father, are loading up a couple of rickety old home-made carts that look like they're about to fall apart. The adults are loading up with various goods, and we're preparing for the long journey into the village to trade in the market there. We're taking an assortment of various sized jars, some farm produce, some handmade clothing and rugs and a variety of other things (maybe some bananas? ;) )

There's me and my friends (another girl about my age, and a younger boy) we're all playfully arguing over who gets to travel on the cart with the "oval shaped wheel", there isn't enough room for the three of us on one cart, so whoever loses is in for a very uncomfortable ride. Being outnumbered, and also being the youngest, the boy loses the fight and takes his place on the cart.

The carts are being drawn by two donkeys on each, and we set off early in the morning. We are travelling on a long dusty path with long grass on either side tickling my legs and feet as we go past, my friend and I are laughing hysterically at the boy on the other cart, bouncing up and down like a rag doll because of the wobbly wheel...:laugh:
 
What great memories! Thank you, everyone, for taking the time to reply and share some of your special moments. :) I've been enjoying myself immensely, following along and reading all about your "everyday memories."

Deborah -- Your post made me giggle as I was reading it. I loved your expressions of that lifetime -- especially the part about the baby goats! :D

Patrick -- I'm glad you were able to get through the more difficult memories and experience some happier times. :)

Phoenix -- The way you describe the love you had for your child always makes me smile. There's nothing like the feeling of a little one in your arms. :)

Hippy -- Great memories! I loved your descriptions of looking for the "marsh babies," and the little "housewifey" things!

Chris -- I had a good laugh over the poor lad stuck riding on the bad cart. Such a simple thing -- going into town to sell goods, but the way you described it was awesome.

These memories are fascinating -- please keep them coming! :D

Aili
 
Here are some more of my memories as Lisbet

I'm sitting down cross-legged on the floor, in the company of about 5 other children, and there is a woman called ??Anilah??*, she is our teacher. We're sitting under what appears to be a large roof made from straw, and the whole structure is supported by stilts, with a canvas like floor.

I'm attending some kind of class, and today, Anilah is showing us how to milk a goat. There are 2 goats, and we have to split into 2 groups, I'm a bit scared of the goat, I don't like it's eyes, but I make an attempt at milking, and i'm very pleased with myself at the results.

Fast forward - each of us children have a round piece of leather laid out in front of us, and we're each given what looks like a metal spike and a large stone. We have to punch small holes around the outside of the leather by hitting the spike with the stone, and then Anilah hands out a kind of metal hoop with a ring at the end to each of us, which we have to thread through the holes in the leather. The end result is a kind of leather bag, bunched up at the top around the hoop, and the ring is used to tighten the bag. I believe this bag was then used to carry quantities of water, milk etc.

* I'm not certain about the spelling of the name Anilah, I've written it down how it sounds to me.
 
I have been meaning to get back to this thread and post some of my memories for a while but have only just got the chance to do so. These are some everyday moments I remember from past lives.

I was about 5years old walking along a street past some houses it was a freezing cold morning and I was wrapped up warm in my coat. I got the impression I was on my way to school or to a lesson of some sort.

About 6 years old I had gone to a big two storied house or building with parklike grounds, I was holding a lady's hand (persumably my mother) we were outside on the lawn and another lady came out to talk to her and there was another child there playing on the lawn. I remember feeling like I wanted to go and play with the other child but I couldn't as I was in good clothes.

Young adult years being at a family or social picnic by a stream. the strongest part of this memory is sitting down under some trees next to the stream relaxing after eating.

This is a different life from the memories above. Being an elderly woman around 70 or 80 years old standing next to a bed putting on a pale coloured bed jacket. With this memory I also remember lying in the bed but can't remember the details of it very clearly.

Kind Regards
Kay
 
Happy Times

Two very simple domestic images.

The first is my former self coming home after a day at work. The house is filled with the smells of cooking and the friendly smile of Wei-Min, my spouse. There are the sounds of the children at play. It is a warm and sunny day.

The next image, again Thomas, my former self, is walking along a path coming from his work. He smells like fish!!! As he passes some trees near the running stream near his home village, he hears Wei-Min's voice. She is singing lightly to herself. She is cleaning some clothes in the stream. Another warm and sunny day.
 
I do not have much of everyday life to share. Perhapst my favourites I can point to are to my father and me swimming in the ocean (I was catching a big crab and wanted to show it to my father). When i did he laughed, said something and was proud of me.
The other one I would say is when me and the group I belonged to were travelling. (There are good chances the places we headed to was Kyoto). I know that such a big voyage was not common, I didn't do it everyday. But we often moved around, according to what we had to do. In this long travel I enjoyed the companionship of others and to know the person closest to me walked not far away. In spite of the distant feel of danger, it felt reviving.

But I second that "simple domestic images " are recomforting and nice to read and i think also to share.
 
From a Sephardi in 15th century Spain:
It's a hot, sunny morning. My son and I are walking through a small stone plaza. He lost a tooth recently and keeps showing me the hole where it was. He's very proud of himself.
I'm carrying a basket of dried herbs. We seem to be on our way to the market. I stop and sit on the stone ledge of a fountain. Jews aren't allowed to drink from it, and I keep hoping my son won't forget and stick his hand in the water. I don't want any trouble. But it feels good to sit down, anyway.
 
One of my most cherished memories from the 1860's is a fairly normal memory.

-It was early 1861, and my wife, daughter and I were at a dance for all of the soldiers that were leaving. I remember that my daughter (who was very young at the time- 5 or 6) wanted to dance with me, but she didn't know how, so I Had her stand on my shoes and we had a dance. I can remember very vividly her looking up at me and smiling as we danced on the floor, her small feet precariously balancing on mine.

I also have a memory of her clomping around the house in my heavy work boots, saying that she was big enough to go to work with daddy...

- 1862 ish. sitting around the campfire with my comerades, splitting our time between talking about home and other mundane subjects and heckling one of the others who was (badly) trying to play the harmonica.

I also have a lot of 'normal' memories form the late 1800's in London. an example;

-I'm sitting in a pub with a friend, heatedly debating the most recent news in the Leather Apron case. I'm smoking my pipe and trading between taking drinks of my beer and flipping through my notebook, trying to prove the point I am trying to make.

Interestingly enough, I tend to remember normal things over the abnormal or unique. Perhaps its because I tend to like those moments more, since the unique ones tend to be traumatic... or at least unpleasnt.

Wilhelm
 
Time as experienced by a child

Reading this thread, it makes me think about some strange behaviour I had back then. I had a strange concept about time. My parents tried to make me learn how to read a clock...I refused. I only accepted it when I was 8. And only because tired of the constant bickering about me being already 8 and not able to tell the time.
Since I was 4 or 5 they wanted to know why I refused their explanations. And even the explanations of other people as how time worked. For me it was so alien. Felt so wrong.Time was not supposed to be measured in that way ( with numbers looking like 1,2,...14...), not supposed to be imprisonned in a box ( a clock, a watch). I wasn't interested in the actual time, in their time they tried to fit me in. I knew how half an hour felt ( the passing time of half and hour, of an hour, or of several hours). Yet I couldn't tell you that half an hour was 30 minutes. That notion of time was relative to me.

It struck me also now when I remember my child's reaction to time. To only accept my notion of time because otherwise it felt so out of place, strange and....utterly wrong.

No garanty that it might be past life related.
I just....well..wondered!!!!
 
Some excerpts from my regressions journals at various times:

I remember Daddy holding me when I was little, I felt so safe with him and loved him so much. Felt the rough fabric of his clothes, saw watch in his vest pocket, played with chain. It took me a long time to resolve his clothes and face, at first I thought he was wearing black but this later became more varied. Perhaps he was in black when riding. He had light brown hair and a mustache. Momma had a long face, I loved her too but she was more serious. She had black hair I think, but maybe it was just covered.

I was kind of spoiled and very talkative, always annoyed with my brother who I think was a little older. I kept pestering them for a horse. We were comfortable but not wealthy. Daddy refused to buy a car, we had a covered 1 or 2-horse carriage. Maybe he couldn’t afford it but concealed it? Fleeting memories of family picnics. I was such a pest. It was warm and sunny most of the time.

Hands on a tree. Feeling the bark. Leaves. Hear
children. See children among the branches. (Looking
through own eyes). Like to see sunlight going through
the leaves. Like to see the stream. Something's trying
to pull me away. I saw this the other night. Waiting
for my friends. That girl again. We're laughing.
Something's trying to pull me away. I want to stay
here.

Oh, I see it now. There's a school. I'm just one of
the kids. White wooden building. Dirt road leading to
it. Goes though the woods. Daddy is coming on his
horse. He's been away a long time. He's been away a
long time. I am really excited. Can't wait to get
home. Now he's back.

Scene is shifting. I'm coming home. He's there and
mama's there. Mama's cooking something. Me and my
brother are talking childish stuff. There's a lot of
stuff in there. (tell me about you). I am walking to a
mirror. The same girl as last time. Thin face. Blonde
hair. A little enclosed wooden staircase, dusty.
Bedrooms are up there. Windows. Carpets on the floor.
Kinda warm up here. Looking out and seeing some kind
of yard... out buildings... horses are there... Gotta
do my schoolwork. Tiny room, but it's mine. Little
dresser with a mirror. A lot of... dolls and stuff
around.

Some of my friends have come. I want to go outside
again. Someone's come to visit Daddy. I think he has a
car. Riding a horse now. I'm older. We're going
through trees. My brother is there. He's annoying but
basically we get along. He's got a brown jacket, brown
cap. He's 16-17, clean shaven, reddish brown hair,
pale in the face. I can hear his voice. He said
something funny and I am laughing. I'm throwing some
pine cones at him. I get off the horse. He did too.
We're pokeing around some old house.

. . . .

And so on. These kind of everyday memories have always been the most powerful

Lonewolf
 
Those are some wonderful memories, Lonewolf! Thank you so much for sharing, I really enjoyed reading them.


Ailish :)
 
In this particular memory, I see myself as Lisbet, and she's lying flat out on the ground, under a blanket, looking at a dark moonless sky full of stars. We're outside of our "hut", the location of which is very remote, so the only light is coming from the campfire that we'd made earlier before the setting sun. There's something cooking in a pot over the fire, I don't know what it is, but there's a sweet smell in the air, like fruit. There's one of my friends there and she is crouched down beside me, and tickling my forehead. I look around and I can see my father in the glow of the fire, and he's playing the "pipes" for us. The whole scene is very tranquil and relaxing...

Does anyone else have any everyday memories to share?

I'd really like to find out more about the pipes, I have seen them in this life, they're like a row of wooden pipes, starting long, then getting shorter. And they're tied together with a string, but I don't know what they're called..:confused:
 
They're called panpipes, pan flute or syrinx ;)

What a nice, peaceful memory that must have been, Chris! This is a very interesting thread anyway; thanks for sharing, everybody!
 
What an awesome thread! :thumbsup:

Here's my memory (well, a dream I had at a time when I didn't believe in past lives):

This is my favorite b/c it was a very happy dream. I had to have been about 9 or 10 years old. I was in a very fancy house, which I think belonged to an uncle? I was very happy there. I had many cousins there. They were all boys and I had my hands full with them! They were real rascals and I had much trouble trying to calm their wild spirits down to an acceptable level; to a dull roar if you will. It was Christmastime and we were expecting guests. A large winding staircase was in front of me and the room I was in was very large. Huge french doors were to my left, leading to the backyard. I remember seeing a Christmas wreath hanging above an entrance that led to the next room; above the wreath was the lookout from upstairs. (There was wood paneling on the stairs and where the wreath was). I was speaking to a maid that worked there. She wore your typical black and white maids uniform from back then, and had blonde hair. She wore a maids cap also. I remember thinking she was very pretty and very sweet. The boys came downstairs; at least one sliding down the banister! They were all dressed up real fancy-like in the suits that go to their knees; all their outfits looked the same and they each wore black boots. I threatened to lock them outside if they misbehaved for our guests. They would just laugh and act wilder, running around the room and screaming. I ran after one of the boys that ran out to the back. It was nighttime. He was sitting on top of a garden wall, (at one part where it curved) absently swinging his legs back and forth. He was laughing at me. When our guests arrived (a man and woman) I answered the door and ushered them inside myself. There was a little Christmas tree in the entrance hall. It was as if I was the "adult" amongst all the children and was feeling very proud to be playing hostess for the evening. :tongue:

This was a vision (which is rare for me):

It was like seeing a scene from a movie. I saw a man (probably in his early thirties) wearing a suit. There were two young boys with him. They were in a hallway which had silver teacarts lined up against the wall with teapots and fancy pastries. Maids would walk past them, as well as people dressed in Victorian clothing. It was very crowded and busy, despite the fact that this hallway and the surrounding area (more halls) were a "backstage area" if-you-will. The man conversed with the little boys almost the same as he would speak to an adult. (Like he saw the boys as equals and while he knew they were still young, he wasn’t going to ‘talk down’ to them). He spoke to the youngest boy the most, who was your typical happy child. Very imaginative I think, too. I seem to remember dark brown curly hair. The other boy with him was a little older and much quieter. I think the kids’ suits were a light shade of blue? (Their suits went to their knees, I think).
And that was it. Just these three people conversing in a hallway, then walking and still talking to one another through another crowded, very busy hall.

For two days this vision (or whatever you want to call it) bugged me. It felt so very real, which prompted me to think that perhaps I was remembering a scene from an actual movie. I cannot begin to express how real this all felt. It was strange b/c this was only the second ‘vision’ I have ever had. It just blindsided me. It just popped into my head out of nowhere, about one minute after turning out the light to go to bed.

Oddly enough, this vision was on April 14th, which is the day the Titanic sank. I had this vision looong before the movie came out and at the time didn't know that about the date.

Kristin
 
I had a dream of a boy of about 14 walking across a field with 3 or 4 other boys all around the same age, there is a tree line visible in front of them. The boy (that is me) has a long barrel gun lying on his shoulder and brown curly hair tie in a ponytail he has leather straps tied to small leather bag across his chest. It’s a beautiful sunny morning I can smell the grass and feel the heat from the sun on my head and I know that one of the boys is my cousin and best friend.


Also from that life I see a girl of about 13 she is lovely, blond hair and clear blue eyes, she is dressed in a long dress with a bib apron over it. She smiles shyly at me and I feel like I could fly.


I’m standing in a room that has columns running down the center, the wall are a dull golden color the bottom is a dull brick color. There are small windows cut into the walls near the ceiling, I know they are mostly for light. At the front of the room is a chair setting on a platform. I’m standing with my back to the wall near the entrance on the other side of the doorway is another girl, she stands still as a statue, heels and back pressed against the wall looking straight ahead I’m suppose to be doing the same thing, even though I know I will get in trouble if they see me I cant help but fidget and I look around the room not straight ahead. We’re not guards but more ornamental. I can tell that it’s a hot, dusty country the sun coming in from the doorway is intense. I can see my feet, they are brown and dusty. I feel I wear something on them but I can’t see any straps that could be sandals my dress is white and very light weight it stops well below my knees. I feel like I’m simple or maybe very young. Except for the whole standing still thing it’s pleasant here.


I’m in the same life; I’ve been caught moving and looking around. I’ve been warned before about my fidgeting. I’m in the same room but now I’m near the front where the chair sits on a small platform there is a man setting in the chair behind him stands another man. They are both laughing and seem relaxed. I’m focused on the man standing, he has his elbow propped on the back of the chair he’s bald and holding his wig in his other hand, he has black smeared around his eyes. I know that he is in some way responsible for me the other man is very important not a king or anything but still a VIP. They are laughing about me. I feel relieved!
It must have looked funny to visitors coming to see the man on the chair about some serious business to see his slave (?) fidgeting and looking all around. :laugh:
 
You all have such beautiful detailed memories. I wish I had as much detail in my memories. I get fragments here and there. I agree, the simple, average lives are the best. I would like to remember what my passions were. What did I enjoy in each life. What did I look forward to? What brought me the most joy? But I don't seem to experience any of that. I rarely get to see what I ask for. Here are a few fragments I recall off the top of my head, I have more in my journals.
1) I was about 12 and had these shoes that looked like rectangle pieces of wood, with one thick strap across. Couldn't see much but sand and a few scattered bushes. I was practicing how to jump atop my horse. I wasn't very good....kept falling down over and over again. But I wouldn't give up.
2)United States - out West somewhere. I was in a small town, a young woman. I was a half-breed (not sure what), but I wasn't well accepted and had no friends or family. I carried a small basket with some eggs. As I was coming out of a store, a man bumped into me, my eggs fell and splattered everywhere. The man laughed and walked off. No one would help me. I was sweating with anger and humiliation. I needed those eggs!
3)I was outside somewhere (Ireland?) and the grass was SO green! It was extraordinary! I was young, and saw a group of boys running. There was a small home nearby and I peeked in the windows, a family was inside gathered around a table. Nobody saw me. I wanted people to see me, but instead I ran through the grass barefoot, wearing a plain cotton dress I loved the feeling of the grass.
4) Me and my brother were in a large house in an upstairs bedroom. I saw a heavyset woman with short reddish/brown hair walk up the stairs and knock on my bedroom door. She was our mother. (This didn't look like it was very long ago. I must have jumped right into this life immediately or something.)
I'll have to dig out my journals for more!
 
Hi Lyssa,

Welcome to the forum :)

Thank you for sharing your memories with us. I enjoyed reading them and look forward to more posts -- once you dig through your journals!

Ailish
 
I remember coming home. It was a tiny hut on a very green hill. There were 3 or 4 children and a woman outside the hut waiting for me. There were also maybe 2 or 3 sheep. Looking out from the front door I could see a river below. There was smoke coming from the chimmney. I hugged the woman (my wife I guess) and the children tugged at my sleeves to be picked up. We were poor in material things but we had so much love and warmth!
I am not sure where this was. From the clothes I would say 1800's and it "feels" like Ireland because of the vividly green hills.
 
Here's another "everyday memory" -- it's the simplicity of the moment -- that makes it precious to me:


Dmitri has made a cradle – on rockers – for our baby. It is a plain wood – but he has hand painted it – with little flowers, vines with leaves along the sides. It is absolutely beautiful. We have put it at the end of our bed. There are tiny little blankets and white linen dresses/nightgowns hung over the side – inside our tiny daughter sleeps. Dmitri and I lay at the end of the bed, my head on his shoulder as we watch her little chest rise and fall. Every so often Dmitri will reach out and stroke her head or hold up her little hands and rub them gently between his fingers. She has her Daddy’s hands -- this amazes Dmitri, who keeps commenting on it.
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Does anyone else have an everyday memory to share?

Aili :)
 
Ailish that is beautiful. Those memories, like my "Irish" ones are proof of the love that is remembered sweetly. Our children, our spouses/partners, the love, the feelings we never lose, that is the stuff that life is made of, the little moments. We carry them with us life after life. As a parent I know that watching your child/children sleep peacefully is one strong emotion.
Beautiful post Ailish.
 
Thank you, GreenKnight. :D

I couldn't agree more -- that it is these precious little moments with loved ones -- that make remembering so sweet.

I'm curious if you have any other memories of your Irish life? I'd love to hear them! It sounds like despite the circumstances, your home was overflowing with the important things. ;)

Aili
 
No Ailish. Unfortunately that is all I remember of that life. But the feelings of loving, peace and contentment are more than enough. I remember that woman's face very well. I have not met her in this lifetime. I would know her if I had.
 
I have another simple memory to share -- from Italy:

Mamma’s playing the piano. Lera’s sitting next to Papa, her head on his shoulder. Luca’s lying on the floor on his stomach, his chin propped in his hands. I am sitting on the floor by Mamma, my arms wrapped around my knees; my head leaning back and resting on the piano bench. We are quiet and thoughtful, just enjoying listening to the music. Then Papa says “Bedtime,” and we all beg for “Just one more song!” Papa acts stern and says “One and only one,” but he is smiling and his eyes are twinkling as he winks at me.
Click to expand...

Does anyone else have an everyday memory to share?

Aili :)
 
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