She doesn’t know what she knew yesterday,
And tomorrow she won’t know what she knew today.
But then she might.
Sometimes she is home,
Sometimes she is on holiday,
Sometimes she is looking after things for her father.
She is angered by imagined slights,
By “gossips”, who shock her with the things she didn’t know
But which she knew yesterday and
Might remember tomorrow.
She is hurt over forgotten birthdays
Which were never forgotten but
Remembered on a different day,
Her Birthday.
She remembers her children,
She remembers her friends,
But she forgets their children – their wives.
Reminding her is like lifting the needle of a scratched record.
It plays again
Until the next scratch catches the needle
And it is stuck.
And it is stuck.
And it is stuck.
I gently lift it,
She is gently reminded,
And life is in the right groove again.
Sue Lyons
Glasgow Women’s Library has a wonderful archive, and Donna, one of the amazing women who work here, has put together what she calls a ‘handling kit’.
In a dinky suitcase she’s hoarded a selection of items ideal for bringing back memories to older women – for example, past issues of The Woman, old knitting patterns, items used fifty years ago that we rarely see now.
The handling kit can be used with groups of any age to to prompt discussion. It’s particularly useful for helping the elderly with memory loss access almost-forgotten moments from their lives.
Memory is such a strange thing. And such a rich seam for writers and readers. What books by women exploring memory, or loss of it, would you recommend for our readers? I’d love to know.
Magi
