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- Childhood memory
- 22 Writing Prompts About Childhood Memories | WriteShop
Several years ago, I gave my grandmother an empty scrapbook for Christmas. Inside was a note asking that she write down stories and memories from her life. I included a list of questions to get her started. And I requested that she return it to me the next year for Christmas. She had talked of writing things down for years, but had never taken the time. My request gave her the excuse she needed. And the following year I received the best Christmas present ever — after the gift of our Lord, of course.
She had included some pictures and poems in addition to answering my questions. Even now, I discover little tidbits of information that I missed in my first few readings. My family has made several copies of that book, written in her own, beautiful handwriting. It is truly a family treasure. This is beautiful, Rebecca. We can never go back and reclaim those stories. What a blessing that the Lord prompted you to give your grandmother the journal and questions.
You will indeed treasure that book forever! Rebecca, Your story brought me to tears, the treasure that you possess is indeed a God scent. I am new to journaling so this advice is precious. I started writing small family stories to a niece, to keep in touch. I enjoyed it so much, and I was surprised what memories that drew out. Now I think keeping a journal, might jog more memory, and also record some stories that the younger generation might enjoy, now and later.
My most treasured memory is visiting an aunt, feeling I was always safe there. I think your prompts are going to save even more memories.
Hoping some of the other prompts will help jog even more. Happy writing! Reading your list and comments from others reminded me that my mother made some notes of family things she remembered and wanted me to have she was about 88 at the time. Because of this article, I will look for it! Must find! Am also copying your list of questions into my Evernote file to prompt further thoughts!
Happy to be a catalyst, Jen! What a treasure that will be!
If it were me, I might have one journal to record old family stories and memories and a separate one for current journaling. Beyond that, you might enjoy keeping a journal for each of your children in which you write letters to them from time to time monthly?
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Or, it could be a journal in which you write back and forth to each other. Here are two suggestions for how to do that:. Conversation Journals. Kim- these are absolutely fantastic.
You gave me a lot of excellent prompts! Hi Kim, I so happy to have found you and you list of journaling prompts. My earliest memory is of a birthday celebration at our house where there was cake and balloons and a little habatchi type bbq on the lawn of the front yard. My mother used to think I was repeating something I heard from another family member, because I was surely too young at one or two to remember back so far.
When I described things about our house, like the swinging door to the kitchen with the little round window and my dad popping up from the bottom of a cupboard and asking mother for a rag, she was finally convinced that the memory really was my own.
I have great hopes for motivation through your prompts to finally get some things written down to my satisfaction. Thank you! What a wonderful story, Carol! Memory is a beautiful and fleeting thing, and we really do need to get these thoughts committed to paper! Hi Kim, I am busy writing stories of my childhood, young adulthood and basically whatever else is happening in our everyday lives right now for my daughter, who is an only child, to read in her later years.
So pleased I found your blog, as these topics are just perfect for me. They have brought back so many recollections of my childhood. It can become very overwhelming. Your list has provided me with a starting point. Thank you. Greetings from South Africa. These pieces are giving some great ideas to write a short story on my favorite family memory of them all.
I have always loved family history and stories, I started to copy family records when I was 10 ; consequently, I have many notes from conversations I have had with relatives. I also tell family stories to my grandchildren.
22 Writing Prompts About Childhood Memories | WriteShop
I am 58 and have been wanting to write my memories down for a long time, not just for my family, but for me to enjoy looking over. The trouble is, I seem to find it more and more difficult to find the time, energy and focus. Any suggestions? I work in a library and we are thinking of re-starting a writing group, but before that I could use some input.
I love your idea of keeping an idea notebook with keywords to trigger memories. Become a Friend of Aeon to save articles and enjoy other exclusive benefits. Aeon email newsletters are issued by the not-for-profit, registered charity Aeon Media Group Ltd Australian Business Number 80 This Email Newsletter Privacy Statement pertains to the personally identifying information you voluntarily submit in the form of your email address to receive our email newsletters.
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We will retain your information for as long as needed in light of the purposes for which is was obtained or to comply with our legal obligations and enforce our agreements. You may request a copy of the personal information we hold about you by submitting a written request to support aeon. We will try and respond to your request as soon as reasonably practical. When you receive the information, if you think any of it is wrong or out of date, you can ask us to change or delete it for you. Kristin Ohlson. Edited by Pam Weintraub. My mother was 35 when she conceived me in , so chagrined by this chronological indiscretion that she tried to hide the pregnancy from her sister.
Word spread. They were still having babies! Still piling their children into cars and heading off to picnics at the river or hikes into the lava-capped, wild flower-rampant plateau outside town. They still had to mediate hair-pulling and toy-snatching. But by the time I started first grade, my siblings were gone, the oldest three to college and the youngest to a residential school four hours away, and we went from a very noisy household to a very quiet one. My family has told me stories about those years before everything changed.
How my other brother liked to ambush me around corners with a toy crocodile because it never failed to make me shriek in terror. How my oldest sister carried me around like a kangaroo with her joey.
But I can offer very few stories of my own from those early years. My strongest recollection is a constant straining to be with my brothers and sisters. I remember having to go to bed when it was still light out, kicking at the sheets as I listened for their voices coming down the hall or through the windows from the back yard.
Sometimes I could smell popcorn. I do remember that, probably because it was something that played out night after night — our father loved popcorn. Several years ago, I thought I might have the chance to recover that lost past when we were all tightly clustered together in one house. My brothers had driven to Bucks Lake up in the Sierras of northeastern California where, until I was around three years old, our family had leased a house every summer to escape the Sacramento Valley heat.
They found our old cabin unchanged. Even a table built by a local sawmill was still in the living room. They knocked on the door and, weirdly enough, my younger brother knew the current lessee. He invited them in and then invited the rest of us back for a look. With our father, we set off a few months later, up highways that narrowed into dusty roads through dark pines and past bright stony summits.
When we got to the cabin, my siblings scattered to claim their favourite outdoor spots, but I was rooted near the car, struck by how much this place differed from what I thought I remembered. I recalled that the water was a long walk across a sandy beach from the house; I had an image of my mother standing on that wide beach, her dress whipped by the wind, her hand cupped near her mouth.
But the pebbled shoreline was just a few feet away.