I spent a lot of time growing up at my Grandparents home, and that of my Auntie and Uncle’s. It has been a joy for me to be able to take my children to their homes so that they too, have similar memories growing up of tea and scones at Auntie Norma’s or the toys at Grandma’s. In the past month, these memories have changed as both my grandparents and my Aunt have moved into assisted living. When I found out they were moving, my sister and I were talking about the unique things in their houses that make us think of them. I found it amusing that while we shared childhood memories of going to these houses, we each had different items that we remembered. For my sister, it was Grandma’s crazy knick-knacks that cover her house and a painting, for me it was little toys and Grandma’s hands on the organ.
Before they left, I photographed each of their houses. I photographed the things that made their house, their home in my memories. At Auntie Norma’s, I also photographed the things that were sentimental to her children – a teddy bear, a chest, my Aunt standing in the window waving good-bye and for me, the best tasting scones ever and the handles on her cupboards. It felt like time had turned back as I walked through the houses that I spent a lot of time in growing up. It was amazing to me the things I had forgotten, but as soon as I saw them, they jogged a memory and brought a smile. Even things like the colour of the carpet, a picture on the wall or a footstool that used to be just my size to sit on. The images flooded my mind with memories of wonderful times spent in those houses.
I can’t believe I had forgotten about things – like the half door and the pencil sharpener in the furnace room at my Grandparents, or the crazy fabric pictures of fruit on my Aunt’s wall – even the little faces made out of nylons that all of us grand kids got to make hanging on Grandma’s fridge, or the crazy little toys that Grandma collected. I am sure others have forgotten too as time does that, it fades these memories that used to be so sharp until it seems like they have disappeared until an image jogs that memory back into place. I photographed it all so that now I have images to remember with. I can look at these images when my memories fade again and remember to me what it meant to go to Grandma’s house with all of my cousins running around, or playing cards for pennies at my Aunt’s. I have the images to share stories with my own children as they are young enough that they probably won’t remember ever being in these two homes that meant so much to me growing up.
Life is constantly changing, new memories are made and old ones fade. A photograph is worth more than a thousand words, it is what keeps our memories alive.
Auntie Norma has flower shaped handles on her kitchen cupboards – cupboards that my dad built! Some of the handles had decorations hanging on them.
I always picture Auntie Norma’s hands on her mugs with scones close by. I remember these mugs vividly, as my Mom had the same ones only green! And I loved tea at her house as we always got scones with honey which is my tea time favorite!
These two pictures hung just inside her door. The top is the homestead which I have no memories of, but I have plenty of memories of sitting at her table hearing stories of life on the farm. And the second picture is near and dear to my heart – supper in the field with my Dad, Grandpa and Uncle as they harvested the acres and acres of grain. I love this photograph and wish I had one.
Growing up on a family farm that had been in my family for generations meant I was familiar with old fashioned things sitting right next to the modern equivalent. At Grandma’s, she uses an old iron for a doorstop – it is there in all of my memories but I had forgotten about it until I saw it again.
These crazy toys, Grandma has a bunch of them. You push up on the bottom and they dance. I had completely forgotten about them until I saw them propped up above her mirror. This one I remember best now.
This radio sat on shelf at the end of the kitchen next to two ashtrays. It was always on and always tuned to CFCW.
My grandma was always knitting. You had to be careful with sitting in her chair because there were always needles pushed in the side of it. She knit everything under the sun. I remember having my Aunt cut my hair and she wanted to pull it into a pigtail for me, she bellered at Grandma to bring a tie. Then she bellered again as Grandma wasn’t coming. Soon, Grandma came around the corner, knitting needles flying as she quickly knit a pigtail tie for my hair. Grandma had crazy knitted pillows on her couch – I can close my eyes and see them and now I have photograph of all of them.
