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Memoirs Stories

Submissions to this category are generally told in the first person and cover personal reflection, autobiographies and memories of the past.

Rather than focusing on factual accounts, memoirs are more a recollection of moments in time that were either vivid or unique to the author.

It may be fifty years since we got married, but it only seems like yesterday. Half a century has gone in the blink of an eye. Five decades of happiness and woes, triumphs and failures, laughter and tears. Memories come and go, but one day I will always re...

Memories of conversations and a penny's worth of sawdust. Is there a heaven? Mom said there was. With unicorns and porch swings. She would take me in her arms and hug me. Touching my cheek with her tears as she passed, with a penny's worth of sawdust in h...

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Moonlight dancing over silent waters gently flowing over soft quarters across stones and leaves of caravels cascading over the water mill of my mind as heaven in all its glory shines lighting the golden pond with the water that has past gently flowing ove...

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That Moment

Elderly man uneasily recalls an incident from his youth

Just that—a moment. Not a life resolving, world changing event. Trivial, you will think it. But for me, a just-turned-sixteen, raw, callow adolescent with little knowledge of the way of the world, it was a mind stirring, almost upsetting moment, recalled...

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Recently I was reminded about the day I quit high school. Many of my friends believed the decision was made in haste, far from it. I spent a great deal of time on it. I even called a few potential employers and inquired if a high school diploma was mandat...

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Good Intentions and Coincidence

Intriguing search for family truths

Clyth in Caithness, north-east Scotland was the original source of my mother’s parents. I was seventy-seven when I felt a renewed need to drive up there. A journey I should have made years ago when I was a shade spritelier. The motivation, in 2011, was ba...

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Always a car-sleeper as a young girl, I would awaken to the sound of gravel beneath the tires. To this day, that sound excites me, bringing back memories of simpler times. One week each summer, my twin sister and I were transported to what seemed like a d...

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The scars of yesterday Remind her She must take control Taking a deep breath Refusing the tears to fall She will be strong She waits Soon to pack the memories away To love another day No choices she has Each day will be a bit easier She must be strong

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The Junction

The things I see around me.

I’m so fortunate to be able to look out on the world, to see the sunrise, to smell the freshness of the morning dew, and to experience the warmth of the rising sun, and at the end of the day, to cool off and experience those special sunsets; the ones that...

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Number 10

loving pets

Epilogue to “Cedar Boxes” Once again, for the last time, we await the return of Cedar Box #10. Just a simple rectangular wooden box full of ashes and an interlocking lid with a brass plate on top bearing a name. "Gimley." I guess it is a headstone of sort...

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I accept I did my part The vows I keep A lifetime of doubt Never to rest I gave my all You took wanting more Leaving me stripped Still you want more I keep on giving A nobody I am Locked in With no way out

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The night was beautiful No bright moon A peaceful darkness Head pounding like thunder The storm grew She would suffer alone No one to hold her Till the storm passes Fighting a rage within Never to tell her secret She knew and was ashamed She was alone and...

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Saturday Afternoons at the Opera

A reflection on how my father's taste in music was passed down

The other day I was doing some work in the kitchen, fixing up the caulking behind the sink. As I often do when I’m doing stuff in that room, I put the radio on to CBC Radio 2. It being a Saturday afternoon, opera poured out into the room. I don’t even kno...