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| My Grandmother Phoebe Lyons |
It began with a
photo. The year was 2003 and I was
planning my wedding. I cannot remember
when exactly, it wasn’t a conscious decision, but my Grandmother’s wedding
photo became my inspiration, my obsession and the all consuming driving force
behind my plans. I incorporated the
photo on our invitations; I showed it to
the florist so she could replicate my Grandmother’s bouquet; I asked my photographer to take the same type
of studio photos; and I chose suits for my
husband and his best man, very similar to those worn by my Grandfather and his
best man. What had begun as a normal
modern wedding had become a full blown themed affair by also asking our guests
to dress in 1920’s styled clothing. As a
final gesture, I dedicated the wedding to the memory of my grandparents.
It became
apparent to me that my grandmother was looking over me from heaven above to
ensure that everything would go smoothly.
Perhaps, because I was 44, she was happy that finally I was to be married
and she was determined to be there for me, if not in body, then in spirit. When plans veered towards disaster, things
fell into place, as if by divine intervention, at the 11th hour. Two months before the big day, it became
apparent that the hall we had booked would not accommodate old time dancing. Coincidentally, I found the perfect venue,
boasting a large timber floor, available for only $100 and it happened to be
next door to the church where my grandparents were married! Then, two weeks before the wedding, I
discovered that I hadn’t actually confirmed my booking with the photographers. Mysteriously their booking for that day had
been crossed out, making them available for me.
The most intriguing incident, however, occurred when we went to pay the
caterers. I had booked them online and
only dealt with them by phone. The
church bells were ringing loudly on the day I discovered they operated out of
an old house that had been a funeral home, formerly operated by the same
funeral director who took care of my Grandmother’s funeral arrangements. By now I was comforted in the firm belief
that Nanna Lyons, my Arch Angel, was indeed fluttering her protective wings
around me.
Nanna was the
common thread that held together the fabric of our expansive family tree. She was a person of connections. She connected with her 11 siblings, their
children and theirs. She connected with
so many lives that she always seemed to be attending weddings and
funerals. I recall my uncle commenting
once that “some Mothers collect spoons, others collect tea cosies, but my
Mother collects funerals”. After
attending such events, the storyteller in her would give us a running
commentary of who attended and what they were wearing. Her attention to detail was incredible and it
is a trait that I have inherited from her.
When I was a
child, a shopping trip to town with Nanna and Pop Lyons would always end at the
house of a friend or relative. For me,
this was a time of learning. While the
adults gossiped and told stories over a cuppa, I quietly listened and learned. I learnt how to fit all the names to faces
and where those faces fit on our family tree.
This was quite a feat as Nanna came from such a large family, but it was
an education in the importance of keeping out family stories alive.
Young brides are
fortunate that their Grandparents are usually still living and able to attend their
weddings. However, I was 44 and my
Grandparents, Great Aunts and Great Uncles, who held important places in my
life, had all passed. In honour of their
memory, I created a Memory Wall. Even in
spirit, they were my VIP guests, and I set about purging my memory for stories
to bring these family treasures to life.
This was my way of introducing them to our living guests who hadn’t the
privilege of knowing them.
I recaptured the
youthful free-spirited Aunty Nelly Hourigan of the 1920s, riding across the
sunlit plains on her favourite steed to meet her current beau. I recorded how Nanna Lyons would bribe me to
drive her to church by giving me the keys to Pop’s brand new Triumph car. I remembered 80 year old Uncle Tom’s exclaiming
“you can’t believe everything you see on TV”, while the eyes of the world
watched Neil Armstrong take his first steps on the Moon. I reminisced about the time my cousin Susan
and I sat for hours, following Grandad Hendy’s instructions to the letter, in
order to see our future in his crystal ball. I recollected with amusement, the
story of how Pop Lyons and Uncle Tom had mischievously worked all night in the
cane fields, loading cane onto trucks allocated to other farmers, just so they
could attend the Races the following day. These stories and more, struck a chord with
cousins, Aunts and Uncles alike, as my memories were also theirs.
This was my
moment of revelation. Planning my
wedding turned out to be an educational journey. It taught me the importance of preserving our
family stories for future generations. I
truly believe that my Grandmother was the shining light, guiding me on this
journey. So, to her, I give thanks. She lit the path with clues, none brighter
than the caterers’ venue that was once a funeral home. Perhaps
it was preordained that the life of my Grandmother, the “funeral collector”,
would end on the way to a friend’s funeral.
As for me, life as the family story teller began with my wedding. Ironically, weddings and funerals are the embodiment
of our life stories. Whilst one
celebrates beginnings, the other represents endings, and yet on both occasions our
families gather, relive and reminisce what happens in between. Most importantly, this ensures that our
stories are never forgotten.
 |
| Family Historian Kim Chambers |
Meet Kim Chambers
Kim lives in
Townsville, North Queensland, Australia, with her husband of 9 years.
She grew up on a
sugar cane farm, near a small town called Giru, where her pioneering ancestors
settled at the turn of the 20th century. During her childhood, she was surrounded by such
interesting characters as her Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Great Aunts, Great
Uncles and so on up the trunk of the family tree, and she remembers feeling very
proud that she possessed a Great Grandmother as old as 90, something not many
other kids could boast.
Ten years ago, she discovered scrapbooking and Kim was immediately drawn to the idea of creating a
heritage album. Initially Kim only
intended to scrap the photos she had and not to delve too deeply into family
history. However, her nagging need to
write, led her to fill her scrapbook pages with reams of writing as she kept
discovering the stories behind the faces.
Now Kim regularly
meets with a network of cousins and Aunts who are equally interested preserving their family history. Kim has since begun to write stories of her childhood memories.
Kim considers herself an amateur family historian, she is not a blogger and this is her first online writing experience. I know the online genealogy community will give her a warm welcome.
