I’ve recently turned 23. My younger sibling felt inclined to remind me that I was two years short of being halfway to 50. I rather emphatically stated that I did not want to be reminded of such a prospect again. As I sit here writing this on what is the hottest summer since 1995, it’s dawned on me that maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
A few months ago I was sitting at my desk, as is my custom on most occasions, when dad came in with a box full of various objects. Naturally I immediately dropped what I should have been doing and proceeded to examine the contents. When it comes to objects that are of genealogical importance I feel it is my duty to ‘rescue’ them before someone else decides their fate. The first thing dad said to me was that the contents of the box belonged to his mother Lila – my grandmother. I never knew that the box had even existed until that moment but suddenly it took on a whole new meaning. The box was more than just a box. The objects were more than just objects. Beforehand a silver charm bracelet given to Lila for her 21st birthday was the only thing in my possession that I could say was hers. That particular item takes pride of place on my bookshelf. Some of the contents included:
• The wedding ring my grandfather Tom wore when he married Lila
• Watches
• Books
• Clothes
• Pendant
• Magazines
• Wedding invitations and a wedding program
• An invitation to attend a reception being held at Belfast City Hall for the South African women’s hockey team
• Knitting patterns for baby clothes
On 8th November 1965 Tom and Lila were married at Carlisle Memorial Methodist Church in Belfast. Nine months later my dad was born. Nine days later, on 5th September 1966, Lila was dead as a result of a blood clot. She was 25 years old. In the space of ten months Lila had gone from being a wife, to being a mother, to being six feet under in a coffin.
I have never known a box to have such a profound effect on me and I’m not ashamed to say it brought a tear to my eye. As I said at the beginning maybe aging is not such a bad thing. Lila didn’t get beyond 25. My elder brother would have been 25 in September if he was alive today - yes I was originally meant to be the middle child! There are many other individuals on my tree who didn’t make it to that age. There was a question that appeared in a book I was reading, which in most cases usually involves vampires, witches or werewolves, about whether or not you would be tempted to change the past if you could go back in time. As tempting as it may be to travel back in time and influence events so that I could have people like Lila and Peter – that’s my brother’s name – there is a little bit of doubt. I can’t be sure whether the life that I’m leading now would still be the same, better, worse or whether I would be here at all. It’s a hard question to answer and one that I don't think I can provide an answer to.
Who would have thought an ordinary box could do so much?
