What's your earliest memory? Mine is clear: my grandfather wheeling me down the road in the pushchair, reciting a bawdy song about Little Doggy Doo. My grandparents were all influential in my life in different ways, notably passing on their skills. Between them, they were a painter, a gardener, a teacher passionate about France, and an ardent needle worker.

 

Family life didn't run smoothly, resulting in times of intense loneliness. Later I found comfort in the words of Psalm 68: God sets the lonely in families. That longing was answered in an unusual way - providing me with a wonderful neighbourhood, where people call in, invite us for dinner and join us on holiday. Children add things to the shopping list, feed the cat and walk the dog.

 

Last week on holiday, we revisited the haunts of my childhood. In one cathartic day, we toured the scenes of family paintings, viewed houses, parks and gravestones. Memories surfaced, many of them happy ones. Shared with friends, they pushed out the sadder thoughts and more amusing anecdotes filled my mind.

 

As with the cup half empty or half full, we can choose the soundtrack of our minds. Recently I attended the funeral of a neighbour, a tragic loss to our street. Although too young, the eulogies all bore testament to her hugely positive attitude in the face of illness and a determination to give thanks each evening for ten good things.

 

A useful reminder to savour the good memories and be thankful.