When I read autobiographies (the latest was Greenlights by Matthew McConnaughey…brilliant), I often wonder, “How do they remember?”

How do they recall the conversations, the stories, the real life events? I remember very little and what I do recall is mostly memories of memories where the real life action has faded over time only to be superimposed with what I think happened, what I believed happened and maybe even what I wish had happened.

No one tells you, at aged eight for example, to start remembering the things. The small things, the moments, the mutterings and the magic. No one says, 'You may need this someday’, you may need to know your story. We forget to remember, we refrain from retaining the historical minutiae that paints us into full colour.

Of course, not all of us are going to write our autobiography, but shouldn’t we be able to? When our kids ask us what our life was like, who we were, shouldn’t we be able to describe to them in detail the details that made us the people they know and love? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to share those life-changing conversations word for word…to pass on our learnings. To remember our failings with a smile knowing that, as painful as they were, they’re all part of the process.

I fear I’ve forgotten too much. I fear I didn’t write enough journals, take enough photos, record enough tapes, create enough baby books. I worry that I didn’t write enough letters, or take the time to have enough conversations. I worry that I couldn’t write my autobiography, that I’m losing my story, that I’ve been careless with the gift of experience that I was supposed to pass on.

But there’s time. There’s time to start collecting these droplets of life that fed my growth. Bit by bit, drop by drop, I am determined to start collating and curating my memories not just so that I can pass them on but so I can appreciate and re-evaluate every single one. Because if I don’t use my past to learn for my future, then what was the point?

So, with the school holidays upon us, I’m making a promise to myself. While the kids are home I’m going to take photos of the kids, of me and my husband, of beautiful things I see. I’m going to open my eyes and look for moments to remember. And, don’t die of shock, but I’m not going to put them on social media. I’m going to print them, print more than one and send them to family with a handwritten note on the back. I’m going to frame them.

I’m going to write things down - things that the kids say, conversations I have with Jimmy or with friends that stick in my mind. I’m going to start recording so that I no longer have to rewrite history. I don’t have to make a best guess when it comes to my life. I want to remember and appreciate what really happened.

So that one day, I can tell my girls all the stories they need.