Kia Ora,
Today I’m thinking about this handsome fellow – my Dad Ken.
This pic was taken years before I came along, apparently as he was just arriving in New Zealand.
By the time I did appear, he was quite an old Dad and he stayed home and raised us while our mother worked as a nurse.
My dad smelled like beeswax and engine oil. He had a strong Devonshire accent. He was a staunch socialist. And he liked to make jam and preserves.
He was a child of WW2 in the UK, and became a ‘career soldier,’ before starting a new life in New Zealand.
I guess he wanted to both protect me and leave those memories behind because he wasn’t very keen to share his life story with me, a budding young writer. He would do it, but reluctantly. His memory was incredible, much better than mine is!
He’d remember dates, names and places.
Now that I’m on the downhill slope to 50 I wish I’d recorded his story. I have so many questions! And I miss his voice.
So I guess this is my reassurance to you, that even if your family don’t seem interested now, one day they will care, they will want to know dates, names and places that are part of your history, because those details are part of their history too.
Charlotte x
PS if you need help writing, you are very welcome to join my seven module course Write Your Memoir. Also we write books for people too!
Charlotte Squire 