Is the past gone forever.... or is there life after death?

Pete

Pete

Member
Location
Texas
Tonight I was standing outside my son's home adding my contribution to climate change while polluting my lungs and for some reason my mind drifted, (it does this quite a bit lately), to my father and memories I have of him. When I turned back to look inside the house at my granddaughter I wondered just how she would remember me. I think what will imprint most will be the many trips to the yard to have a cigarette, not the little talks we had about nothing in particular. Not the moments when grand-pop actually managed to get down on the floor and spent time admiring her creative efforts or for that matter the words of praise when she would show me a book she just finished reading or a new color on her Tae-kwon-do belt, and I had to wonder why? In some cultures elders are revered and stories about their lives are passed from one generation to the next. Not that I am even remotely a figure to be revered but now our young never learn of their grandparents or great grandparents lives or accomplishments.

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There is an old green bowl that my mother used and whenever I see it it rekindles old memories of the many night with her and dad at the diner tabel. It is an old worn and scratched Pyrex bowl with the imprint ‘made in America’ circa 1950’s. To most people nowadays it would no doubt be treated as trash, but to me it is a link to wonderful past memories of my mother. On first sight it evoked a memory of the hundreds of times my mother made chocolate pudding from scratch. I could even for an instant smell the rich aroma and remember ‘cutting’ the tick layer of pudding crust from the top of that dessert. Or more poignantly the last time she made Lithuanian cold beet soup. This memory is a two edge sward because I videotaped her as she made the soup in that bowl and a couple months later she passed away. But this is what I am writing about… memories not only about certain Christmas rituals, but the lives of parents, grandparents and great grandparents.


In most early cultures around the world children would be told ‘stories’ of the elders lives and adventures almost on a daily basis. Even today in Alaska in some of the remote villages the young men of the village are taught how to hunt or fish based on the traditions of their elders. This ‘knowledge’ that may have been passed down for many generations is now in danger of being lost forever. With today s fast paced culture parents rarely take the time to ‘tell stories’ of their parents or grandparents to their children, because most of them, both parent and child, have their heads buried in their tablets or phones. So to take some time to talk about grand-mom Mary and her life's struggles and accomplishments now seems boring to them.


I feel we should find a way to make these past lives interesting enough that our children will hold onto those stories and they themselves will pass the stories on to their children. For when you keep alive the past of our ancestors they will never truly be gone.


I have walked the snow capped mountains here in Alaska
floated down its majestic rivers
walked side by side with wolves, bear and moose
and during all this time
my father, mother and wife were with me
in my heart and soul
and they will never die
as long as my heart continues to beat.

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Pete, I don't know if the past is gone forever, or if there's life after death. But I think of my parents and siblings who passed before me sometimes, my mother gave me an old decorative teapot of hers before she died, and I can't look at it without thinking of her and all the sweet childhood memories I had of my mom, dad and family. I never knew much about my grandparents, they passed on before I was old enough to know them, just a vague memory of my mother's dad when I was very young.

I don't have any children, but it is nice to tell your kids stories of how things were when you were young, etc. I think your granddaughter will have fond memories of you, from smokes outside to little chats together. Love the poem and the photo, thanks for posting it...bittersweet. :sentimental:
 

As I age I think more and more about the path my life's road has taken and truly hope some of the cherished memories I have are passed on by my children to their children. That 'old' green bowl prompted a flood of memories of my mother some of which I shared with my granddaughter... and in that passing of stories my mother may well live on in my granddaughters memories.
 
Pete said:
As I age I think more and more about the path my life's road has taken and truly hope some of the cherished memories I have are passed on by my children to their children. That 'old' green bowl prompted a flood of memories of my mother some of which I shared with my granddaughter... and in that passing of stories my mother may well live on in my granddaughters memories.
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I'm glad you're passing on those memorable stories, wish I heard some from my parents when I was young, would have been nice to know more of what they did and how they felt about things.
 
My parents never spoke of their past so I don't know if anything interesting happened. My Father in law, in spite of being an 'ordinary' person, had quite an interesting life. Iv'e also known some people with quite fascinating stories to tell. However, they're all dead and when you're dead, you're dead. The only life after death, is in the stories and memories.
 
Yes, there is life after this earthly abode is ended. So it is not really death, then, but a change of habitation. The bible calls our earthly bodies "earthly tents", which are temporary, since they will take on immortality after they are changed. The atheists, of course, will scoff at this statement, but not me.
 
In the end all any of us have is memories.

It is strange the importance that some of us give to possessions. When I look around my little apartment I see all sorts of reminders from my past and without those memories it's all just stuff.

The pyrex bowl in my memory was the large yellow bowl in the set, it was used to make Christmas cookies, birthday cakes, bread dough, etc...

I guess we all have a pyrex bowl in our past, sort of our own personal Rosebud.

 
As long as there are memories (good ones, at least), the past has no power over us.

We might need to consider using modern technology to preserve our stories - blogs, digital photos, audio and video recordings. They are easier and safer to preserve that way and might serve to spark the interest of our children's children. The days of verbal tradition-telling is fast coming to a close, unfortunately, and we need to adapt.

Life after death? That would take too much space here for me to get into ... :rolleyes:
 
I got interested in genealogy too late in life to actually ask my grandparents the questions I should have asked them. I'm very eager to get information about the past of my family.

Unfortunately, my daughter and granddaughter have made it very clear that they have no inclination to share that interest. I will leave them the info, but I doubt very seriously they will do anything with it. It seems that the urge to know about the past is dying out. Sadly.
 
Pete: "When I turned back to look inside the house at my granddaughter I wondered just how she would remember me. I think what will imprint most will be the many trips to the yard to have a cigarette, not the little talks we had about nothing in particular. Not the moments when grand-pop actually managed to get down on the floor and spent time admiring her creative efforts or for that matter the words of praise when she would show me a book she just finished reading or a new color on her Tae-kwon-do belt."

I smoke regularly. My youngest granddaughter likes to smell the front of my shirt, which smells of tobacco. She takes a long whiff, and says "I love the small of grand-pa!" It's not the smell she loves, Pete. It's all the good times that the smell reminds her of. You will be remembered for all the things you gave her; comfort, encouragement, confidence.
 
Pete, my grandmother has been dead since 1979. I loved her more than all the rest of my family combined. I have fond memories of the time we spent together, whether personally, or in her last years, mostly by phone. I cherish and miss her more as I grow older, and I have passed down my memories of her to the next generation. Fear not, your granddaughter will remember.
 
Thank's for taking the time to respond to my posting.
There is no doubt that most of us have objects from our childhood that rekindle comfortable memories from the past, and I believe it is our responsibility to pass on those memories and events to future generations.... because if we do not today's children will be making memories of an unsettled world devoid of morality.
 
Thank you for taking the time to comment.
You are so correct that gone are the days of parents and elders sitting with children telling stories and in order to reach the youth of today we must work on their (social media) level, but we must remember that we have to find a way to attract them to open those social media treasures that we leave.... but I am fortunate enough to have one grand child young enough to sit on my knee and tell stories to.
 
Thank you for commenting.
For today's children the 'voice of reason' is a foreign commodity. I encounter this "I don't want to hear stories about my great grand parents" regularly, but I have found if I start to do something of interest to them or be looking at some old photographs sometimes they will come over and ask what I am doing and thus open the door to trips down memory lane.
 
Thanks for that touching comment, you made me aware of something totally different than was my intention when I wrote those lines... again thank's
 
Thanks for the kind words.
It is hard to think she will ever retain anything of what we talk about for she flitter's from one thing to another so fast that some times I can not keep up with her. However I know that some seed of what we talk about remains because there are times when I see a look in hey eyes that reflects the fact that she does remember.
 
I don't always remember the things my gramma told me when I was a small child, but I remember clearly how loved and cherished she made me feel. I am a far better parent because if it. Merci beaucoup Grandmere. J't'aime.
 
The echo of past words will carry forward, through the hearts and minds of the succeeding generations.

Sometimes descendants will remember words that you don't, or hadn't intended for them to.

Our legacy lives on in the memories of those following us.

Life after physical death? There's a million dollar question. ;)
 
Pete, I can't dismiss the possibility that a time will come when the power goes out for one reason or another, and people rediscover the night sky, and return to sitting around the "lodge-fire" to tell their stories. New stories, I suppose.
 
Growing up across the street from the ocean, I recall many bonfires on the beach. I was a water baby. Loved water/water sports. My children toasted many a marshmallow over a driftwood fire. I would make up stories to order, scary, or legends, epic tales of valiant men/women/kids. Fun!
 
Shalimar said:
Growing up across the street from the ocean, I recall many bonfires on the beach. I was a water baby. Loved water/water sports. My children toasted many a marshmallow over a driftwood fire. I would make up stories to order, scary, or legends, epic tales of valiant men/women/kids. Fun!
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When my kids and I moved up into the mountains, the most amazing thing they saw, they said, was the night sky. They asked why there were so many more stars there compared to where we'd lived before. I explained about lights, atmospheric refraction, and all that, but then I was afraid I was taking all the magic out of it for them. So I stoked our fire and told them some of the old Indian star-lores my father told me about where stars came from, and the milky way, and the boy and the sun story. Under the night sky, sitting beside a fire, you gotta have story-telling. Of course, Pete is talking about using stories to pass on history and traditions. I did a little of that, too, I suppose, when the kids noticed with some surprise how quickly and efficiently their dad could start that first campfire, as well as the stove inside the cabin. And that story prompted other stories...
 
I have lived away from where I was born for 41 years. In that time my last 3 grandparents, my father, a brother, and sister had died.
I have visited several times since I left.
One of those times I went to pack my mother's belongings from her last apartment. She had moved to a nursing home.
Being alone there I felt my ancestors. I felt so much peace in this town and part of the country (New England) that I had come from. It wasn't just because I was amongst my mother's things that brought back many memories. I felt them. I knew I had people watching out for me.
I guess I need to tell my grandchildren this story so maybe someday they'll feel me and know I'm watching out for them.
 
I know that my grandchildren will remember me and their great grandparents and great aunts because we have all been part of their childhoods. Another way that we will live on is in the values that have been passed down the generations. I am proud when I see that my adult grand children are practicing honesty, compassion and generosity, and kindness. These traits have definitely been gifts from the ancestors. I see family as being a chain of gold and each generation forges a new link, The values pass down the links so it is important that the chain is not broken.

Story telling is another way that those who passed before we were born influence the present. My maternal grandmother died before I was born but through my Mum and her sisters I have learned about her and I have passed these stories to my daughter.
 

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