Memories ~ Treasures of the Heart

Memories are timeless treasures of the heart.~ unknown

I am thankful that God made us in such a marvellous way that He gave us memories. Our memories come from past experiences which help mould us into who we are. Both good and bad.

My earliest memories come from my first home; my grandparents' farm in New Brunswick, Canada. Once called Bridgedale, it is now known as Riverview.

It was the dearest place which now only resides in my memory. It is a happy place where I visit in my heart from time to time. 

The farm was standing long before I came along because it was home to my great grandparents and it is where my mother, her sisters, and her little brother all grew up.

My mother, her sisters, and baby brother

I loved that house and all the people in it! You can see from the vintage picture below that the house had a wonderful veranda on the front. I spent many happy hours playing out there as a little girl. 

That house was my castle and I loved living there and later, visiting there. It had many rooms with all kinds of nooks and crannies and it was a splendid place for a little girl to develop a scope for imagination. To the right of the house and barn which you can't see in the photo was the chicken coop where I helped Granny feed the chickens and gather the eggs.



Behind the house and barn was, and still is, the Petitcodiac River. Also called the Chocolate River, it is where the famous Tidal Bore comes rushing through twice a day filling in the riverbed.

When I was a little girl, I called it the pink river because the water and shoreline was a pinkish colour. And boy, was that muck ever fun to play in! It squished between my fingers and toes like pudding. Indeed, it had the consistency of pudding and I thought it was the most wonderful and magical river in the whole world.

My hubby sees it differently and calls it a big mud puddle. That is an ongoing joke between us...

The best thing about memories.... is making them. ~ unknown 

I lived in the farmhouse until my Daddy built our home just on the other side of the apple orchard. The thing I liked best about that was I could skip through the orchard and visit my Granny anytime I wanted to. She was my most favourite person in the whole wide world in those days. There were always wonderful smells coming from her kitchen and tins of fresh baked cookies in her pantry.

Here is Granny with my cousin and they are admiring my new born cousin who is wrapped in the blanket.

One day, my Daddy packed us all up and moved us to Prince Edward Island. We would go over to NB every holiday and every other weekend to visit my grandparents and my uncle. Sometimes we spent most of the summer there. It was as though we had never left.

It was always a great adventure for my brother and me because we usually took the train which also went by way of the ferry. At the end of the journey would be warm hugs from my grandparents. It was always great fun to see my uncle, who was only eight years older than me, my aunts, and my cousins again. 

I had two heroes in my life while growing up; my father and my uncle. Both men were handsome, very bright, and full of life.

A few years after we moved to the Island, my beloved grandmother passed away and my life was never the same after that. Although my grandfather and uncle came to visit, and we often visited them, I missed my Granny terribly. Her presence was deeply missed by the whole family.

But I had my memories and she resides there still.

My grandfather remarried a few years later and moved into his new wife's house. He turned the big farmhouse into apartments and my Auntie P and her family lived in part of the house for awhile. Then one day the barn burned down, changing the landscape considerably.

Later on, Grampy sold the homestead and a family transformed it back into a family home complete with a swimming pool.

This picture was taken in the 1980's. 

The farmland all around was subdivided but they named a couple of streets after my grandfather and my uncle.

My cousins at the intersection of the two streets

I took this picture of the old house a few years ago. It looks so much different now. It is painted blue and the trees practically hide it from the road. I had trouble getting a good shot but I look at that house and I remember; that was my happy place.  

I look at the old house and I still hear the laughter of that little girl. I can still smell Granny's home cooking and I can still picture her churning butter in the back porch. I remember the tins of cookies in the pantry and I can still taste her home made ice cream. Best of all, I remember the love that was in that house.

Our memories are wonderful places to go, aren't they? They are places in our hearts that will never grow old and they will always be a part of who we are. They tug at our heart strings and they have the power to transport us back to another time. 

Sometimes you will never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory. ~ Dr. Seuss 

So many things have changed over the years. My grandparents are gone and have been for a long time. Two of my aunts have also passed on. And now, my beloved uncle is gone too. But I envision him in a better place. Someday, we'll be together again. 

In the meantime, I still have my memories.

My beloved uncle and me last summer on his last visit. 

I am sharing this with these wonderful parties~

Home and Garden Thursday
Share Your Cup Thursday
Home Sweet Home

Sharing from my heart ~ Sandi