Family

 

Last weekend I went to the Netherlands by myself, for a large reunion with my cousins as well as my parents. We met up in Zeist, a lovely old town in the centre of the Netherlands. My father grew up in Zeist, so it was extra special to meet in what used to be their family church.

My father was one of eight children, the youngest. He was three years old when his father died, leaving my gran to run the dairy shop by herself.

My dad’s side of the family is all rather exuberant, and they’re into story telling. The Dutch way of holding a conversation means when talking to four cousins, there will literally be four people talking at the same time, probably four different topics as well... As there were about thirty-eight of us, the noise in the room was, well, wonderful, I would say!

For the last few weeks, my sisters had been running a family quiz in Whatsapp, and I realised how much fun memoirs could be. I’m not too keen on life stories, but looking at old photographs made me think about family history and seeing God’s hand through the generations.

We heard a lot of stories about my dad’s childhood, but looking at the pictures and old letters, you realise there were plenty of days without fun and games. Days during the war, when my granddad was away, having been called to do forced labour, leaving my gran struggling to feed the family. Days where all eight children squabbled and cried, and different cousins heard different stories about this (some people won’t admit they were wrong, not even seventy years after the prank!).

My parents, talking to my cousin and my younger sister.

Even now, looking at some pictures, my dad and his two sisters come up with three different stories behind the photo. And sadly, some photos have no stories. Some cousins never asked their parents about their childhood, and those stories are gone forever.

When you’re young, those stories don’t seem important, until you have lost some wonderful opportunities. It made me look at memoirs in a different light. We found on Saturday that we loved the simple stories the best. Walking home, playing games together, sewing clothes for siblings, birthdays and weddings, friendships and holidays, those details that seem so unimportant, but seventy years later, we wished we knew all the stories.

So tell the stories, write them and share them. Not just the special ones, but the mundane ones, as they will complete a picture. Does it have to be a memoir? Of course not, short stories, fictional or not, are great as well. Merge memories with other details, and share a glimpse of life long ago, bringing in the people you loved or even those that were on the naughty list. No wonder God reminds us so often to pass on stories as well as His truth, telling them to the next generation, and our children’s children.

Anyway, I’m off to enjoy some wine from my cousin who now lives in Spain, and to look at the pictures from Saturday! Have a wonderful time, thinking about memories and our weird and wonderful families...

Maressa Mortimer is Dutch but lives in the beautiful Cotswolds, England with her husband and four (adopted) children. Maressa is a homeschool mum as well as a pastor’s wife, so her writing has to be done in the evening when peace and quiet descend on the house once more. She loves writing Christian fiction, as it’s a great way to explore faith in daily life. Because of her interest in writing, Maressa is part of Creativity Matters: Find Your Passion For Writing, an anthology encouraging people to write.

Her debut novel, Sapphire Beach, was published in December 2019, and her first self published novel, Walled City, came out in December 2020, followed by Viking Ferry, a novella. Beyond the Hills is the second book in the Elabi Chronicles, and was released in 2021, followed by stand-alone novel Burrowed, released in 2022. All of Maressa’s books are available from her website, www.vicarioushome.com, Amazon or local bookshops.