Kim Neville

One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.

So, this is probably the most bittersweet gift I’ve ever received. My husband presented me with this book at the end of 2019. Every page is hand painted with a watercolour illustration on the left side, and an envelope on the right side. Inside each envelope is a gift card or a description of an activity that we can do together. The idea was to get us out more in 2020 :/

We did go on one or two lovely dates before, you know. But I keep the book on my desk where I can see it. First of all, because it’s romantic and thoughtful. And second, because it reminds me that we’re going to have 20 fantastic dates in 2022.

(PS I would also like to brag that in all this time I have not peeked inside any of the envelopes. A true accomplishment.)

One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.

Back in 2010, I put together a photo calendar to give to the grandparents for Christmas. Everyone loved them, so we did it again the next Christmas, and the next. Eleven years later and we’re still doing it.

When I was a kid we had boxes of old family photo albums in our attic that I loved to look at. Some of them had wide, black paper pages and photo corners, others (my favourite) those sticky pages and plastic coverings that made a crinkly tearing sound when you opened them (this was long before ASMR was popularized; now I know why it was so satisfying to peel that plastic back and then smooth it down again, carefully in order to avoid air bubbles). I liked looking at old baby pictures of myself and my brother, and seeing glimpses of my parents’ lives before I was born.

The most recent album I have is from our wedding in 2005. Like most people these days, my images are all stored digitally. For better or worse, I rely on Facebook memories to prompt me to look at my daughter’s baby pictures. Except for these calendars. Every time I come across them I find myself flipping through them, just like when I was a kid. They’ve become a physical archive of our family’s story, an unexpected blessing.

One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.

 

I have so many of these it was hard to pick which ones to photograph. The more I look around our house, the more I find, cards and pictures stuck on the refrigerator, framed on the walls, tucked into drawers and in the corners of bookshelves. I love the spontaneous, free outpouring of creativity and love in all of these bits of paper, marker, and glitter glue. They remind me of the joy that comes from making things just for fun, from uninhibited self-expression.

 

These days my child’s creative outlets have become more sophisticated. Last Christmas she made a comic for her father, and gifted me a song she wrote and performed on her ukelele. Over the months of the pandemic she’s gotten more interested in digital art and animation. She’s been working on a secret project, logging close to 100 hours on something that will be unveiled over the holidays. I have no idea what it is, although I see her sneaking props into her bedroom — a toque, a skipping rope, an oven mitt. I cannot wait to see what she’s created.

One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.

My mother gave me these Padraig Cottage slippers for Christmas a few years back. They are by far the best slippers that I have ever owned: cozy, beautiful, and durable. (Note: my husband disagrees with the beautiful part. He is wrong.)  

A thing I didn’t expect was that these would become my everyday, most worn shoes in 2020. They’ve been on my feet pretty much all day every day since March (don’t worry, they are machine washable!). I’ve worn them in countless business meetings and training sessions for my day job, in publishing industry meetings, and in the various Zoom gatherings that have taken the place of my social life.    

No matter what challenges, both good and bad, I may be facing on any given day, and no matter how much uncertainty or anxiety I’m feeling, my slippers are there, keeping me grounded. Thank you, my soft, cushiony friends.

One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.