Souvenirs
“Ever poised on that cusp between past and future, we tie memories to souvenirs like string to trees along life’s path, marking the trail.” Susan Lendroth
In the Northern Hemisphere the summer is coming to an end, the holidays over, suitcases are unpacked, and the children are back in school. Did you bring back any souvenirs1 from your holiday?
Souvenirs are odd things. We love them as much as we hate them. Yet even if we disparage them, we must buy them in great quantity given the number of souvenir shops & stalls around the world.
We seem to buy souvenirs for two reasons - as gifts for friends & family back home, or as souvenirs for ourselves, which I find more interesting.
I think we buy souvenirs because there is something attractive about buying something you would not be able to buy at home. By taking the souvenir home, you have a reminder of a time & a place. Unlike a photo, it not a ‘snapshot’ but a tangible reminder of a myriad of memories.
“Ever poised on that cusp between past and future, we tie memories to souvenirs like string to trees along life’s path, marking the trail in case we lose ourselves around a bend of tomorrow’s road.” Susan Lenroth.
Years ago, I had a wonderful holiday in Greece with my late husband Gregory. One day on the beach I picked up a lovely smooth stone, wrote the name of the beach on it, and bought it home2. I miss Gregory very much. The stone is on my dressing table, and I touch it from time - it is my connection back to that glorious time & place with Gregory, and it comforts me.
As a young person I thought souvenirs were great fun - the more kitsch the better. On holiday I went to great lengths to find the best of the worst, for the least amount of money, to give to my family on my return. With hindsight, I now realise that these useless objects, mostly made of plastic, were probably immediately thrown away. What a terrible waste.
I rarely buy a souvenir nowadays, and only after careful consideration. But I am happy I have this duck from New Zealand.
My husband, daughter and I went to a family wedding in New Zealand. Near the end of the visit we all went out for a big family lunch, to a restaurant overlooking Dunedin Bay. It was a very special to be with the whole family, as soon after afterwards many of us left for homes in different parts of the world. It may be years before we would see each other again.
After lunch we went next door to a small gallery with a traditional tin roof. There was a sudden thunderstorm, and the rain caused a tremendous noise on the tin roof. Then I saw Mr Duck. I loved his colouring and his hat. I persuaded my husband that Mr Duck was worth a place in our already over-crammed suitcases, and ever since he has been a reminder of that lovely day.
Did you buy any souvenirs this summer? Or do you have a souvenir that you have kept for a long time, that reminds you of a special time and place? What story does it tell?
The French word souvenir means ‘to remember, come to mind.’ Later the word took on the sense of ‘a token’ of an event or experience.
I know - it is terrible for the beach environment to take stones or shells. I did not think it through at the time and have never taken anything from a beach since then.
My dad collected matchbooks as souvenirs for my little sister and me. Everywhere he went, he'd pick up a couple books for his girls. Souvenir postcards were my jam. I still have the postcard I bought at the Trading Post in Warroad in 1968 with a portrait of Kakaygeesick on it. More than a souvenir, a portal to my past.
I'm not a tchotchke kind of person. But I do feel a desire to want to bring a piece of the place home with me (beyond the bazillion photos which I do dutifully turn into photo books.) Sometimes I default to a shirt of some sort with the name of the place gracing the front or back. I do wear them for a few years and then I tire of them. So, not the very best way to memorialize a place, I do recognize. Recently, I started to buy jewelry as a reminder of a place I've visited. "Oh, what? These silver hoops? These are my Alaska earrings." "Oh, this turquoise necklace? This is my Arizona necklace." It opens a conversation. And is something that I will keep forever. I have a trip coming up to Italy and I'm not sure what I'll find to remind me the fabulous place I know it will be.