Poetry Sunday: Our Lost Stories

 

Our Lost Stories

 

Our stories lost between the pages of time

Whispers no longer heard

Dates on gravestones never seen.

 

 

Who were these souls

Their names forgotten?

Who is remembering their sacrifices,

Their tears, their joys, that brought us here?

 

 

Their legacy is ours

Whispered from one generation to the next

Forever on the wind as the dust stirs

Part of each cell and fiber-

A family found again; our heritage.

 

©Donna Donabella 2018

 

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I found this poem that I wrote a few years ago, in an old journal.  It may have come about when I was trying to work out some of my family’s ancestry.  I thought it would a great poem in honor of my my father’s family on this Father’s Day here in the U.S.

The top picture is of my father’s family in the early 1930s.  He is pictured lower right and my Irish grandmother, Margaret, behind him.  The other’s are my aunt (grandmother’s sister Esther), uncle (Fred, Esther’s husband) and cousins (Esther and Fred’s children, Myrtle and Fred).  The bottom picture is from around 1901 and is my grandmother’s baby picture.  We are discovering many old pictures of family we do not know or cannot recognize as the only one left now is my mother who has the accumulated history of her family and my father’s.  It is sad to have lost these family stories with each relative who is gone now.

 

I am joining in with Poets United for their weekly poetry link up for poets who blog.

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I leave you with a few additional words about Lost Stories.  I welcome you to download the photo and share it.

All other photos and original content is copyrighted and the sole property of Donna Donabella @ Living From Happiness, 2014-2018.  Any reprints or use of other photos or content is by permission only.

38 Replies to “Poetry Sunday: Our Lost Stories”

  1. This gives a nostalgic feeling. Indeed we are the culmination of all the traits and sacrifices of our ancestors.

  2. This strikes home.
    I have no pictures of either of my parents in their younger years. My father was a German Jew and made an oyster look garrulous. We think he was the last survivor in his family. Sadly my mother wasn’t on speaking terms with the truth very often.
    I know lless than nothing about their families and indeed only found out I had cousins years after my mother died.
    Buried stories.

    1. Oh Soosie that is sad….my paternal great grandfather is a mystery and I may never know his story. I wish our ancestors had not hidden their stories from us.

  3. Remembering is so important. Few take time to do it. Thanks for this poem that DOES remember those who have gone before.

  4. This is incredibly evocative, Donna. I can sense the legacy being “whispered from one generation to the next” ..and can’t help but wonder about my own.

  5. I see you in your grandma’s baby picture. I love old photos and only wish i had written down the history and stories when my grandma was still here to tell them. Sigh.

  6. What a great day to remember your family… I think about it so much these days and wonder how I could learn more.

  7. I can empathise with your poem. Photos of family whom you know little about. Wars and life events break up families. To be honest I think it is an accomplishment even being alive todayl Life can be such a struggle.

  8. Ah, so only your mother is left who knows the many family stories. Write them all down now when you can. There are many questions I wish now I had asked my mother (and dad), but it is too late. And, oh, those old family photos of people recognized and people not. Now in the digital age I wonder if we will end up with more memories preserved or fewer. I think we all have so many photos on our computers. I doubt they will be cared for when we are gone. Lots of things to think about.

  9. Very sweet vintage photo Donna. And yes legacy should be explored

    Thanks for dropping by my Sunday Standard today

    Much♥️love

  10. Having done a fair bit of research on both mine and my wifes family I have compiled a list of about 1900 members of the joint trees. I am hoping somebody keeps up the work after me! What a lot of secrets you can discover by diligent digging.

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