“Everyone says I should write my memoir.”
We hear this often at LifeBook Memoirs, and we couldn’t agree more! But what happens to the people who never quite get around to it?
Life has a way of filling up. The older we get, the faster time seems to move, and the idea of pausing to record life takes a back seat to the business of actually living it. Our memories feel vivid and accessible today, so why rush?
The problem is that there’s no magic mirror to consult later, no way to look back and check the facts or fill gaps. And until time travel is invented, what gets lost will stay lost.
Time and again, wonderful and unique family stories go untold because they were never recorded. Family histories disappear simply because nobody thought to ask questions while there was still time.
Regrets? We’ve heard a few…
When we speak with people who never recorded their life stories, or their relatives, we often hear the same common regrets…
1. I should have written my story while my memories were still clear
Our interviewers hear this regret more than almost any other, from people who simply waited too long, until the sharp edges of their memories had softened. The details that once felt so vivid and permanent have begun to slip away. And when those memories go, they take their stories with them.
Many of our clients are adult children who wanted to capture a parent’s life story but left it a little too late. They remember fragments – the names, the places and perhaps the outlines of the stories they once told around the dinner table – but the richness, colour and detail that once lived in their parent’s memory is no longer so easily reached.
The good news is that a skilled interviewer can often help bring back more than you might expect. With the right prompts and questions, many people find that memories surface more readily than they anticipated. One small detail leads to another, and, before long, the story begins to tell itself. Where gaps remain, our team of professional interviewers, writers and editors know exactly how to bring out the best of your stories and recollections to piece together as full and meaningful a picture as possible.
It’s rarely too late to capture something worth keeping.
2. I wish I’d kept my grandfather’s diary or written down the stories he told me
The loss of a loved one’s diary, letters or handwritten notes can be a profound regret, not just for what they reveal about the person, but for the window they open onto another time. Personal records often carry a kind of social commentary that no history book can ever replicate. As one family told us, “My grandfather worked in a lighthouse and kept a journal every day. His life is now a lost piece of history.”
Many of the trades and professions our grandparents knew have vanished, along with the knowledge, language and rhythms of life that went with them. Sometimes, a memoir is the only record that a particular world existed at all.
3. I didn’t ask my parents about their lives when I had the chance
“They were just my parents when I was growing up. I never found out what kind of people they were until it was too late.”
This is a remarkably common realisation. Our parents – the people who loved and raised us – had entire lives before we came along. They experienced struggle, adventure, love and change, and they grew with the times. In some cases, they helped shape the times. They deserve to be remembered and understood as the full, rounded and complex people they were, not only as “Mum” and “Dad”.
4. If only I had learnt more from my mother
How often does it happen that a family member’s wisdom is truly appreciated only after they’re gone? It’s a regret that carries a particular sting for those who grew up with a quietly perceptive parent but didn’t fully see it at the time. As one person told us, “Mum observed more than she participated. I see now that she was an excellent judge of character.”
Older generations carried philosophies, boundaries, values and ways of seeing the world that can seem easy to dismiss when we’re young. It’s often only with age that we recognise what was quietly being offered to us. Many families tell us how they wish they had listened more, asked more and absorbed more while they had the chance. Sometimes, it takes the process of writing a memoir to understand just how deeply those people shaped us and how much better they made us.
5. I keep putting off telling my own story
This is a regret that we understand well at LifeBook Memoirs. It’s so easy to set a good idea aside, telling yourself you’ll give it proper attention when life quietens down. But life has a habit of not quietening down, and health, time and the march of years have a way of making decisions for us if we don’t seize the day and make them ourselves.
Only you know your own life in full. Family and friends, however close, hold only fragments – their version of you, filtered through their own experience. When you’re gone, how accurately could they tell your story on your behalf? Would they truly understand your motivations, your emotions and what really made you tick? Could they portray you as you would wish to be remembered?
Your life story belongs to you. You are the only person who can tell it properly, and there’s no better time to start than now.
6. My grandchildren will never know about the world I grew up in
Of all the regrets we hear at LifeBook Memoirs, this one may run deepest. “My grandchildren cannot imagine life without a car, but I rode to school in a horse-drawn carriage.” The ordinary details of daily life from eighty years ago would seem utterly extraordinary to a teenager today: lumpy mattresses and suet pudding, newspaper in place of toilet roll, the swish of the headmaster’s cane… It’s the stuff of story books and period TV dramas to children today, but to our authors, it was simply Tuesday.
“The grandkids have no idea what life was like. They wouldn’t know what to do with a mangle, a gramophone or even a cassette recorder.” A memoir puts such a gulf into context in a way that no history lesson ever could. The past becomes vivid and real when a child discovers that even Grandpa got the cane for being naughty!
So where do you start?
Avoiding these regrets doesn’t require a grand plan of any kind, just a small beginning. And making a start is simpler than most people expect it to be. You don’t need to sit down and write a book; you just need to start a conversation.
Here are a few ways to take that first step:
- Talk first, write later. For some people, it’s far easier to record themselves speaking than it is to start writing. A phone or tablet is all you need to capture a voice, a story or an accent that would otherwise be lost to time.
- Use photographs as prompts. Old photos are a powerful way to unlock memories. Sit with a family album and let the images do the work.
- Start anywhere. A memoir doesn’t have to begin at the beginning. Start with the story you most want to tell or with the memory that comes most readily.
- Ask questions now. If it’s a parent’s or grandparent’s story you want to preserve, don’t wait for the right moment. Have the conversation today.
- Let us help. LifeBook Memoirs’ professional interviewers and writers are experienced in guiding people through exactly this process, from the first conversation to the finished book.
No regrets
At LifeBook Memoirs, we have helped many people do something extraordinary – tell their life story. A memoir captures memories before they fade, brings the past to life for younger generations and answers the questions that families so often wish they had thought to ask. It can reveal fascinating facts, illuminate forgotten branches of a family tree and bring shadowy figures from the past back into the light where they belong.
The regrets I’ve spoken about here are among the more common ones we hear. But they are also, with a little help, entirely avoidable. Let our team at LifeBook Memoirs make sure that telling your story is one decision you will never regret.
Written by Sara, LifeBook Memoirs ghostwriter
