Here's a low-key summer activity
Revisiting "Memory boxes are a gift for everyone"
Dear friends,
As I worked with a friend on her obituary—a.k.a. her Fun Life Summary*!—she brought up my 2023 post about memory boxes and said she plans to do the activity with her family.
Since it both creates a one-of-a-kind gift and can serve as a group or individual activity, I’m re-sharing it today. Might be a way to quiet things down in the dog days of summer. Or in some families it could rile things up. Use your best judgement!
Speaking of the holidays, I’m on “summer break,” hence the reruns … but they still might be new for you!
Wishing you all the best,
Sarah
*Yes, I’m still mulling a rebrand of the Obituary Workshops. Feel free to drop an idea in the comments!
Revisiting “A memorable holiday gift idea”
Over the past several years, I’ve tried to give my parents fun things they could use up.
Soaps, bath salts, fun foods, books and art supplies. (Spoiler alert: Clearing out their house this year, I found many things hadn’t actually been used … oh well ...)
In 2022, with their 80th birthdays on the horizon, I wanted to do something special. I needed a really good idea.
So I called my friend Linda, a.k.a. Queen of Ideas. She was ready, as ever: “How about a memory box?”
Here’s the idea: You write down all sorts of memories of your loved one—big ones, little ones, ones they might not even know about. These are not long memories—each fits on a strip of paper. Think extra-large fortune cookie papers. Stuff them all in a box or a jar, and wrap it up. That’s it!
We aimed for 80 memories for each of them. That might sound like a lot, but we all got into it—my brother, his wife and son, and my husband, son and me. Once we started rolling, the ideas kept coming. It was fun to find that my brother and I had written down our different perspectives on some of the same memories. And it was touching to see how our spouses and sons were remembering our parents.
When we got together for their respective birthday celebrations, we gave them their boxes and spent the evening reliving old times. Here are thoughts from my dad, Jim Coomber:
“The incidents and impressions on the slips of paper sparked all sorts of memories, and we were not only led to recall those incidents but also to see our different perspectives,” he said. “We don't take enough time recalling and sharing our family histories with each other, but these discussions are important. They help us understand who we are and where we fit in.”
A really wonderful thing about this activity, is that my mom, Eleanor, who had dementia, could fully participate and enjoy these gifts as well—both hers and Dad’s. Her short-term memory was shaky, but she found comfort and ease in memories of the past.
Dad adds: “This memory-sharing process was especially important to Eleanor and to all of us toward the end of her life.”
Now those two memory boxes sit in Dad’s apartment. We haven’t opened them in a while now, but it’s comforting to know all those memories are right there waiting for us.
Turns out a memory box is a gift for the whole family.
Share your thoughts
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