Short Histories and Shorter Memories

No matter how many books on history I read I always feel uninformed and ignorant about how we came to be here in January 2023. The Shortest History of England is one of a series of short histories, and last year I also read the one about Germany. It feels like cheating to read a short book on a massive topic, but I stand a better chance on holding on to how all the pieces fit together. I suppose it’s like looking at a map - maybe later I can zoom in on other features, but for now I have a basic understanding of how we got from A - B.

Our history helps us understand our present

The biggest takeaway I got from this book is how much of the past determines our present. Our culture is the way it is now, not by random chance, but because of events and decisions that were made before we were even born. Getting a handle on those should, in theory, help us understand where we are now, and avoid the mistakes of the past.

I say in theory, because as humans we are quick to forget what has gone before. And in some ways how I have enjoyed this book has reflected that. I enjoyed the parts that were in the far past, that were unconnected from me, but when it comes to recent history, I was much more uncomfortable. It’s the recent history that shows us how hard it is to make the right decisions. When it comes to a society that is only a few decades back, it doesn’t look so alien or unfamiliar, and with that comes an appreciation of how hard life is to navigate, when you don’t have the benefit of hindsight.

The softness of anticipatory grief. 

Reading a book about a country’s general history is fine on one level, but on another level is how our own personal histories impact our present. As I’ve started a process of anticipatory grief for my mum, I can find myself running through my memories of her. They have the strangest flavour of pleasure and sadness mingled together. And as a result, I think they make me appreciate her more.

After the first shock of her diagnosis, feelings settled down to a steady rhythm. It’s been a softer experience than I thought it would be. But it’s almost like the grief cocoons you and, for me anyway, there is a safety in that cocoon. There are times when it slows you down, like each day is like trying to move through treacle and that is frustrating. But I’ve appreciated the time to get used to the idea of my mum not being around any more, and to be at peace with that.

The hard thing is balancing all of that grief processing with not knowing how long this season will last. It’s a slow moving cancer and she could be fine for a long time to come. I’ve had to battle with feeling like grieving now is a waste of time, because it has begun to soon. But even if it has, I’ve gained from looking at what my relationship with my mum is like, and to enjoy a strengthening bond.

So I’ve decided to use this book as a spring board into delving into a bit of family history. Not so much the tracing of the line, I’ve done a fair bit of that already. But finding and recording the stories of the recent history and collating photographs and other mementos, to try and preserve some of the history.