How much do you know about your parents and grandparents? Many of us have what Professor Elizabeth Keating describes as "kind of genealogical amnesia" that eats holes in our family histories like moths eat holes in the sweaters lovingly knitted by our ancestors.”
When Tim and I moved into a 1,100ft2 flat in Colorado, it took some getting used to. Actually, it was frightening. Everywhere I looked, behind me, left, or right, there was my husband. “Tim,” I said, “this is not going to work.” Instead of agreeing—though surely he must— he said, “well, let’s see how it goes.”
Do my degrees mean I'm educated for life? Does the fact I earned diplomas fifty years ago put me in the group reporters refer to as educated women? When I wrote bios of near a hundred women, those who went from high school to work or marriage often lamented about their decision or lack of opportunity to get an education.
My children’s memories differ from mine. “Mamma, you said you would babysit the kids every Saturday, October through April?” I recall saying, “I will babysit for you one Saturday between October and April.” Grandkids have good memories. “Amma, you said I could climb the oak tree at the playground when I turned six.” I believe Kai. The fact I don’t remember saying it holds no water in my bucket with holes. But now I wonder, is there a way to putty the holes?