Essence of a Memory

All kinds of things evoke memories of people who've died, and many of them come with an interesting anecdote. How do you capture the essence of a memory? Can it be done in 50 well-chosen words and a photograph?

The To Absent Friends Essence of a Memory competition ran as part of the Luminate Festival of Creative Ageing, from 1-21 October 2014. It challenged people take a photo and write up to 50 words which together evoke a story or memory of a dead loved one.

This gallery below shows the winning images, which were displayed at the Marie Curie Hospice in Glasgow as part of the To Absent Friends festival from 3rd - 7th November 2014. Click on the images below to see the words that go along with the pictures.

'Departure'  She’s 89 Brain firing, body failing Crosswords, conundrums Animated conversations But every breathless step hurts "I’ve had enough", she says "It’s ok, I’m ready to go" "I’ve had a good life" That night the stroke hits Brain shuts down Body soon follows It's ok, you were ready But we weren't. By Alan Dawson
'Pa's Missing Teeth'  One day I went to visit my Granny and Pa to discover that Pa had lost his false teeth. I helped to look for them but we just couldn't find them. I think he accidentally buried them when he was gardening but we'll never know because we never found them.    This is a funny story about my Pa.  He died on the 22nd September 2013 and my Granny died on the 1st November 2012.  I miss them both very much.  By Emma Fraser, Age 9
Knowing he’s not there, I find myself lost at every crossroad. Every bridge I cross feels like a tight rope a thousand feet up in the air. But I’m stronger now. He’s not physically there, but he’s still by my side and I can dare to walk alone. Thanks, Grandpa.    Aaron Hawthorne, aged 17.
Patients passing through, like gentle autumn winds, changing the landscape, changing me.  Laura Christie Creative Arts Facilitator  Evelyn Smillie Staff Nurse  Daycare Staff, Strathcarron Hospice.
Mum:  Red-lipped, pearly-nailed, smouldering  cigarette in ashtray, Mum vamped the upright piano, never in the corner. Tomorrow was always Que Sera, Sera. French-pleated, frilly-aproned, marabou-muled laughing she’d croon and clean her home  in Carolina, for the only boy in the world.  She was the bright soundtrack to our lives. By Finola Scott
“It doesn’t matter how you feel, put your lipstick on. You never know who you might meet” By Connie Sneddon
This is Jess, Dad. The first of your seven grandchildren you haven't yet met. You are so missed. Christmas, weddings, births – you are within each of us but missing.  Kind twinkling eyes, strong smooth hands, fresh cut wood shavings.  Honesty. Tradition. Faith.   I hope I make you proud.  By Morag Ewing

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