This was so beautiful and did fill me with a feeling of loss. So relatable, even though it is clearly such a personal experience. For me, it evoked that feeling you get when you pass a pub that has closed down or somewhere that used to be a video rental as your past slips through your fingers. I get it as my daughter grows up and certain favourites and routines fall by the wayside. The loss of these things does somewhat feel like a betrayal although you have no reasonable right to feel that way. I’m also aghast at the way memories seem to drop out of our head as we age. I walked part of the Leeds canal the other day, thinking it would be a new experience. I was disconcerted to vaguely recognise a stretch of the towpath as one that I had used a lot to cycle to work in my mid 20’s. I seemed to have completely forgotten a whole swathe of former existence until the landscape reminded me. Thank you for delving into your memories for us.
When my little brother suddenly produced a crystal he’d shoplifted for me, wanting to impress me, it seemed to sum the whole prickly experience up really. Just like “No, no! It was never, never like this before….”
Oh Julie, that was so beautiful to read and so heartbreaking at the same time. It doesn't always do to go back does it? When my Mum died 3 and a half years ago, in my grief I became obsessed with going back to my childhood. There was an old lady who lived across the road from us in Staffordshire, called Mrs Melville. She took me into her house when she saw me knocking at our door one afternoon when l came home from school and for some reason, Mum hadn't got back in time. We became great friends and l used to go over regularly and she gave me cups of tea with custard creams to dunk in and she had Jim Reeves records playing in the background. They were such happy times, she was so kind to me. We moved many times after that (l now actually live in Cornwall) and l often think about her. I'm probably almost the age now that she would have been then. In my crazy grief moments, I used to Google earth and it broke my heart that where we lived then had all been completely knocked down and rebuilt. I wanted to see it just as it was, which of course is ridiculous 60 years later, but l wanted to be able to go back to that time and see where we lived and Mrs Melville's house. On reflection wasn't a good idea but there's always that part of us that thinks we can go back and it will be just like it was. It always will in our minds. I'm so sorry it was such a sad journey for you. Xxx
I wrote that two years ago. When I first joined Substack, it felt like there were so many real stories I had to get off my chest, mostly relating to my teenage years and childhood. So much that surfaced. Maybe you can use your experience to write a story too, Suzanne.
Is Mevagissey the place with the big scallop shells or was that Fowey? We always did the trip together so I can’t remember but I know it was one of them.
Meva was awash with scallop shells. My Granfer had a trawler and scallops were my favourite thing he would catch. Sometimes would trawle up a lobster so we’d have it for tea. That was in the days before quotas of course! Fowey not so much a fishing port as it doesn’t have a harbour
I cried when I wrote this one. It was such a powerful experience, looking forward to seeing someone again for so many years only for them to not know who you are. It absolutely broke my heart at the time💔
Seriously, an incredible piece of writing.
You are capable of anything.
Thanks for your encouragement. I very much appreciate your belief in me, Mark.
These are a few other recent (ish) ones in a similar vein although about different experiences.
https://juliedee.substack.com/p/tea-bread-and-angels
https://juliedee.substack.com/p/auntie-edie
https://juliedee.substack.com/p/a-pinch-of-salt
This was so beautiful and did fill me with a feeling of loss. So relatable, even though it is clearly such a personal experience. For me, it evoked that feeling you get when you pass a pub that has closed down or somewhere that used to be a video rental as your past slips through your fingers. I get it as my daughter grows up and certain favourites and routines fall by the wayside. The loss of these things does somewhat feel like a betrayal although you have no reasonable right to feel that way. I’m also aghast at the way memories seem to drop out of our head as we age. I walked part of the Leeds canal the other day, thinking it would be a new experience. I was disconcerted to vaguely recognise a stretch of the towpath as one that I had used a lot to cycle to work in my mid 20’s. I seemed to have completely forgotten a whole swathe of former existence until the landscape reminded me. Thank you for delving into your memories for us.
It was such a game changer of a holiday.
When my little brother suddenly produced a crystal he’d shoplifted for me, wanting to impress me, it seemed to sum the whole prickly experience up really. Just like “No, no! It was never, never like this before….”
Life lessons eh?
Oh God, Yes, yes and yes! Can so relate to those feelings. Thanks for making me feel not so alone in this.
Thank you Julie.
Better than a TARDIS 🤗💚
Glad you enjoyed:)
All we have is love and light .all that matters is love. Love is the answer to everything
Ahh that was a lovely reminiscence - and a little heart breaking!
That’s kind of how it was for me at the time. Bittersweet.
Taught me you can never go back though, only forwards or you are always disappointed.
Oh Julie, that was so beautiful to read and so heartbreaking at the same time. It doesn't always do to go back does it? When my Mum died 3 and a half years ago, in my grief I became obsessed with going back to my childhood. There was an old lady who lived across the road from us in Staffordshire, called Mrs Melville. She took me into her house when she saw me knocking at our door one afternoon when l came home from school and for some reason, Mum hadn't got back in time. We became great friends and l used to go over regularly and she gave me cups of tea with custard creams to dunk in and she had Jim Reeves records playing in the background. They were such happy times, she was so kind to me. We moved many times after that (l now actually live in Cornwall) and l often think about her. I'm probably almost the age now that she would have been then. In my crazy grief moments, I used to Google earth and it broke my heart that where we lived then had all been completely knocked down and rebuilt. I wanted to see it just as it was, which of course is ridiculous 60 years later, but l wanted to be able to go back to that time and see where we lived and Mrs Melville's house. On reflection wasn't a good idea but there's always that part of us that thinks we can go back and it will be just like it was. It always will in our minds. I'm so sorry it was such a sad journey for you. Xxx
Thank you.
I wrote that two years ago. When I first joined Substack, it felt like there were so many real stories I had to get off my chest, mostly relating to my teenage years and childhood. So much that surfaced. Maybe you can use your experience to write a story too, Suzanne.
That's lovely Julie. I think you need to write a book or 5 ❤️📝📙📖
Apart from my own life story I’m not sure what it would be about 😂😂
Your life!! ♥️
Not surprising...you actually knew her. Dementia is the most cruel disease.
That's beautiful Julie. And I've just had a little sniffle x
Glad you liked it. Yeah, I shed a little tear when I wrote it too xx
The perfect natural shape. I imagine rubbings would look fabulous. What amazing wallpaper or fabric that would make.
Oh wow! Lived in Meva until I was 16. My mother’s family owned fishing boats so it was a pretty feral childhood down by the harbour. 😂😂
Is Mevagissey the place with the big scallop shells or was that Fowey? We always did the trip together so I can’t remember but I know it was one of them.
Meva was awash with scallop shells. My Granfer had a trawler and scallops were my favourite thing he would catch. Sometimes would trawle up a lobster so we’d have it for tea. That was in the days before quotas of course! Fowey not so much a fishing port as it doesn’t have a harbour
I used to collect them to do crayon rubbings from them on paper when I got home. What a lovely place to grow up ❤️
My Granny was the Ann Phillips of Mevagissey. Did you ever go there?
Yes I did, on the coach! ‘Fowey and Mevagissey”
It’s all so beautiful isn’t it?
I cried when I wrote this one. It was such a powerful experience, looking forward to seeing someone again for so many years only for them to not know who you are. It absolutely broke my heart at the time💔
Probably the best comment under this post.
Yes, she can write.
You've identified a segment that touches you.
I identified one, too.