This was very beautiful to read, but also sad. I think it's so sweet that parsley reminds you of your grandad, what a wonderfully weird thing! You clearly have a lot of lovely memories with them both. I sadly lost all of my grandparents in my first few years of life, so I never knew them, but I have photos of them with me though. So even though I didn't know them, they knew me, and I guess that fills me with some joy. But I so wish I knew them. I think everyone needs a grandparent in their life. There's a lot that you've shared that I can relate to, particularly with the trauma you have from moments in life, and being able to notice your mother's own trauma with how she responds to things. I'm glad you're able to share these things, it helps so much for people who are all going through the same thoughts. We're all human and these are human experiences. So thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Rebecca. I agree, we all need grandparents. I should qualify that - we all need GOOD grandparents. I'm fortunate that mine were good, even if I didn't know them very well. The few memories I do have with them are pretty happy ones on the whole.
I did pause before including the references to my mother. I wasn't sure if they really sit comfortably in this piece, but they are certainly relevant to my memories of my grandmother. I'm practising writing about my relationship with my mother. It's not an easy subject and one where I don't entirely trust my own memories or instincts, in part because I've been trained not to trust those elements of myself.
It’s one of those subjects I have to write my way through in order to really understand it and work out what's real. Does that make sense?
It's lovely to hear that you appreciate that part of this piece. Your comment really vindicates my decision to start exploring that part of my own world in writing—and in public. It’s one of those subjects we think only we are struggling with. Until we start to talk about it and realise how common an experience it is. You’re not alone, Rebecca.
such a poignant and beautiful piece Miranda. I relate to so much of this - your memories are precious and now frames like little oil paintings of words that endure the course of time..
Thank you, Alex. I always used to think I had a terrible memory for my own past. I've been on something of a mission in recent years to unearth my own memories. It's a bittersweet process, but so worthwhile.
It's only when I started posting about memories and unearthing them that I realised how common an experience this is. I honestly thought I was the only one and that there was something fundamentally wrong with me. It's such a relief (in a very selfish and warped way) to learn how many people feel the same!
I think we’ ve all been stuck in a frozen moment of time between covid and scrolling. It’ s as if our brains are melting and our senses, imagination and thoughts and memories are reliving again?! excited!
Oh Miranda, I loved reading every word of this. I can relate to so much of it - my grandparents lived far away all my young life, I would only see them once a year. And there are parsley memories there too, grown in a patch between the path to the vegie patch and the porch back door, which brought such sweetness (and sadness) from my memory to my heart. There are so many ways I wish I had known them and their world better too, to have had the maturity of adulthood to appreciate them in my youth. I was so lucky to have Pa move here for the last years of his very long life, that was a gift I will always be thankful for.
I can still remember the exact position of my granpa's parsley patch too! It ran the full length of the garage wall and was about three feet deep. He was absolutely right - I was never going to get through it all. I've never been able to grow parsley like it, but then we have a very different climate.
Fortunately, most of us grow out of our (very normal) childhood narcissism, but that seems to come with equally common sense of regret at all the relationships we missed out on.
I think it must be a universal trope where families don't all stay together and grow new and old in each others constant company. But how lovely to be tethered by parsley!
And now WE'RE also tethered by parsley, Natalie! Thank you for sharing your own parsley and grandparent memories. It's lovely when you find new connections with people in the most surprising moments.
I loved this, Miranda. You’ve made it so I too wished I knew more about your grandparents! They seem like they’d have some good stories to tell.
I lost my dad at 17, and before that, he was clinically depressed (though we didn’t know that at the time). He was a gentle giant, mostly quiet except for a zinger here and there. But I wish I had had the curiosity to talk with him about his earlier life when he was still with me. Alas, teenagers are inherently self-absorbed. It’s sort of their job, right?
Your dad sounds glorious, Amy. I'm so sorry you never had the chance to really know him. I'm afraid that teenage absorption is hard wired. I think it takes a long time before we begin to see our parents as humans in their own right and not just in relation to us.
I'd still very much like to have those conversations with my parents. I have to some extent. My father is very open and willing to chat about his life, but my mother, while very good at delivering pre-prepared monologues about her history, is too afraid to really go below the surface level. I wish I had the skills and the patience (and didn't still wilt at her sudden barbs) to draw her real stories out of her. Sometimes I think I may have missed that opportunity.
This was very beautiful to read, but also sad. I think it's so sweet that parsley reminds you of your grandad, what a wonderfully weird thing! You clearly have a lot of lovely memories with them both. I sadly lost all of my grandparents in my first few years of life, so I never knew them, but I have photos of them with me though. So even though I didn't know them, they knew me, and I guess that fills me with some joy. But I so wish I knew them. I think everyone needs a grandparent in their life. There's a lot that you've shared that I can relate to, particularly with the trauma you have from moments in life, and being able to notice your mother's own trauma with how she responds to things. I'm glad you're able to share these things, it helps so much for people who are all going through the same thoughts. We're all human and these are human experiences. So thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Rebecca. I agree, we all need grandparents. I should qualify that - we all need GOOD grandparents. I'm fortunate that mine were good, even if I didn't know them very well. The few memories I do have with them are pretty happy ones on the whole.
I did pause before including the references to my mother. I wasn't sure if they really sit comfortably in this piece, but they are certainly relevant to my memories of my grandmother. I'm practising writing about my relationship with my mother. It's not an easy subject and one where I don't entirely trust my own memories or instincts, in part because I've been trained not to trust those elements of myself.
It’s one of those subjects I have to write my way through in order to really understand it and work out what's real. Does that make sense?
It's lovely to hear that you appreciate that part of this piece. Your comment really vindicates my decision to start exploring that part of my own world in writing—and in public. It’s one of those subjects we think only we are struggling with. Until we start to talk about it and realise how common an experience it is. You’re not alone, Rebecca.
such a poignant and beautiful piece Miranda. I relate to so much of this - your memories are precious and now frames like little oil paintings of words that endure the course of time..
Thank you for restacking this, Alex. I really appreciate it. x
Thank you, Alex. I always used to think I had a terrible memory for my own past. I've been on something of a mission in recent years to unearth my own memories. It's a bittersweet process, but so worthwhile.
yes I feel the same and am only just discovering how much unlocking happens once you start to write! This is such a new adventure for me!
It's only when I started posting about memories and unearthing them that I realised how common an experience this is. I honestly thought I was the only one and that there was something fundamentally wrong with me. It's such a relief (in a very selfish and warped way) to learn how many people feel the same!
I think we’ ve all been stuck in a frozen moment of time between covid and scrolling. It’ s as if our brains are melting and our senses, imagination and thoughts and memories are reliving again?! excited!
Oh Miranda, I loved reading every word of this. I can relate to so much of it - my grandparents lived far away all my young life, I would only see them once a year. And there are parsley memories there too, grown in a patch between the path to the vegie patch and the porch back door, which brought such sweetness (and sadness) from my memory to my heart. There are so many ways I wish I had known them and their world better too, to have had the maturity of adulthood to appreciate them in my youth. I was so lucky to have Pa move here for the last years of his very long life, that was a gift I will always be thankful for.
I can still remember the exact position of my granpa's parsley patch too! It ran the full length of the garage wall and was about three feet deep. He was absolutely right - I was never going to get through it all. I've never been able to grow parsley like it, but then we have a very different climate.
Fortunately, most of us grow out of our (very normal) childhood narcissism, but that seems to come with equally common sense of regret at all the relationships we missed out on.
I think it must be a universal trope where families don't all stay together and grow new and old in each others constant company. But how lovely to be tethered by parsley!
And now WE'RE also tethered by parsley, Natalie! Thank you for sharing your own parsley and grandparent memories. It's lovely when you find new connections with people in the most surprising moments.
So special - and we get lovely fresh breath from our Parsley friend too 😉
I loved this, Miranda. You’ve made it so I too wished I knew more about your grandparents! They seem like they’d have some good stories to tell.
I lost my dad at 17, and before that, he was clinically depressed (though we didn’t know that at the time). He was a gentle giant, mostly quiet except for a zinger here and there. But I wish I had had the curiosity to talk with him about his earlier life when he was still with me. Alas, teenagers are inherently self-absorbed. It’s sort of their job, right?
Your dad sounds glorious, Amy. I'm so sorry you never had the chance to really know him. I'm afraid that teenage absorption is hard wired. I think it takes a long time before we begin to see our parents as humans in their own right and not just in relation to us.
I'd still very much like to have those conversations with my parents. I have to some extent. My father is very open and willing to chat about his life, but my mother, while very good at delivering pre-prepared monologues about her history, is too afraid to really go below the surface level. I wish I had the skills and the patience (and didn't still wilt at her sudden barbs) to draw her real stories out of her. Sometimes I think I may have missed that opportunity.