Nostalgia thread: Enter all ye who like to reminisce!

[Haggis McBagpipe]

Research had a great idea, to start a thread about our parent's reminiscences. I would take it one step further and say, let's make this thread aout reminiscenses in general, and our tales of long-ago (and for many, tales of not-so-long-ago).

My father was born and raised in Vancouver, my mother was born in Nova Scotia. They met when my mum's family moved to Vancouver. He asked her if she liked to roller skate. My mum, who had never worn a pair of roller skates in her life, eyed the devastatingly handsome young man and without hesitation said yes, she loved to skate. I suppose they fell in love because she fell into his arms so many times while pretending to know how to skate.

 

[American Voice]

I'm feeling devilish. I have some great relationship stories, but they tend to involve. . .well, sex. Not pornographic, mind you, but fun times. Good memories. Like the time we were coupled and didn't realize we were in the middle, and rolled, and her right shoulder was off the bed and in mid-air. . .I got my left palm planted on the floor, and she's hanging onto me. Maybe we should call the fire department?

It's a really funny story, but I don't think it would be appropriate here.

Forgive me, Moderator, I couldn't resist the bait. :roll:

 

[Diamond Sun]

I don't know a lot of my parents, or even my grandparents stories. I know my dad never really proposed properly to my mom, and that my grandparents worked across the street from each other in Edmonton, but didn't meet until they each moved to Whitecourt. My great great grandfather married his first cousin (which explains a lot in my family).

The things I most remember are times I spent with my brother. As we've grown up and become adults we have gotten closer and he always seems to be there for the big moments of my life.

In fact, he was there the day my husband proposed to me. Quite by accident.

 

[peapod]

My parents met by way of a near drowning. My mother got a leg cramp and my father jumped in to save her. Guess she figured she owed him something

In my genealogy ventures I get to meet all kinds of like minded people on the same quest. I have an american distant relative that is working on her family history during the civil war. She visits dusty archives and find the most wonderful gems. The following is a letter that someone wrote to his wife during the civil war...now that is romance...sniffle
Sullivan Ballou's Letter to his Wife



July the 14th, 1861

Washington DC



My very dear Sarah:



The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps
tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to
write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.



Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure - and it
may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God,
be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my
country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in,
the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I
know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the
Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through
the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly
willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this
Government, and to pay that debt.



But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all
of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows - when, after
having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must
offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children - is it weak or
dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in
the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children,
should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?



I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two
thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last,
perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping
behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.



I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a
wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could
not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often
advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I
fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.



Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty
cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country
comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these
chains to the battlefield.



The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping
over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed
them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the
hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved
together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I
know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something
whispers to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that
I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never
forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the
battlefield, it will whisper your name.



Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How
thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out
with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all
the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I
cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you
buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad
patience till we meet to part no more.



But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around
those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the
darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always,
always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my
breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit
passing by.



Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall
meet again.



As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a
father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and
my blue eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories
of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care
and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I
call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me,
and lead thither my children.



Sullivan Mr. Sullivan was killed in the ensuing battle

 

[missile]

I loved listening to my grandfather telling me stories of his adventures in The Boer War, like the one where he was saved from the firing squad by BadenPowell. It seems he had taken a strong dislike for the hard tack and bully beef the troopers had to eat, while the officers had full course dinners with the proper beverages,of course, in the well appointed tents & he raided one of the dinners. Another story he told me was of seeing John L.Sullivan bare knuckle boxing in Boston --one of those that lasted many,many rounds.