I’ve been carrying a box around with me on all my moves within Europe. Its contents belonged to my Uncle Fritz, born 26 September 1923, in Baden bei Wien, missing in action in Russia. All I know about him is that the family intended he become a priest and that he was a fan of Engelbert Dollfuss. There’s a story in there.
I have my uncle’s New Zealand Air Force medals in the bottom of the wardrobe. Just touching them brings him back and I’m always amazed that an entire person can be “contained” in a dollop of metal.The ribbons fade and yet last – a contradiction. Unmarried and unchilded, the medals are all that he left behind – and i’m the only person who knows who he is/was. So I do know how your curiosity and wonder are fermenting there! Ah, the broodiness of an impending story! The enjoyable ache!
Thanks for your poem aoc gold. I guess this is a lesson in marketing? Didn’t see the relevance to my blog, hey, but who am I to not welcome a poem.
Thanks for your comment, Jim. I’m starting to wonder whether the story won’t decide for me. Maybe I’ll just let things compost a while more in the memory box.
That’s a really cool box of memorabilia. I suppose it depends what direction you want to go with as a writer. You could find out what they all are for a story, or you could start making things up, depending on how fictional you wanted to go. I often let my imagination wander off with items and things that I see in life and trust the story that develops from that. My current favorite sidewalk etching says, “I love you anyway.” I’m still trying to figure out what to do with that in my writing. =)
The Swing (1)How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue?Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do. (2)Up in the air and over the wall, Till I can see so wide,River and trees and cattle and all Over the countryside(3)Till I look down on the garden green Down on the roof so brownUp in the air I go flying again Up in the air and down! —–by runescape money
It’s a little trickier than that, Tania. I have to find out what they all are. A friend who saw them spread out on my desk said that they had to do with music and groupings. One that I found on the internet is an 1866 Bavarian medal. When I think that he must have died at an age younger than that of my daughter today, it gives me the shivers. War sucks. In fact, another uncle must have thought the same thing. I’m researching his doings for another story. I don’t trust the bio or auto-biography-memoir-thingy, though. Any truths there may be, to my mind, only live in stories, in the truth of lies. So-called “true” stories have been found wanting far too much lately.
Most definitely! What a wonderful box of items. You could use those as prompts and see what happens.