This Saturday the 30th of April at 1pm the 'Bring a Memory, Take a Memory' party will be happening at our house. It will be a nice relaxed time to share some great memories of our unique Stacy.
As you know a key component of the day is to bring a memory. I'm also hoping to collect additional memories from people who cant make it on Saturday, I've got some grand memory collection plans coming folks. I'm writing today to both encourage you to take up the pen or the keyboard, and with some ideas to help incase the task seems a little challenging. I'll attach a couple of examples at the end as well.
If you were fortunate to know Stacy then you were also fortunate to have known her in a unique way. Your relationship with Stacy was different than everyone else, and you are an important holder of one of a kind memories with someone we all agree had some special moments.
I think you should take a moment and record a Stacy memory for us all to enjoy.
Here is my guide to how to bang out your memory:
A title is an option, a place, a time and your name.
What was going on at the time? e.g. Stacy and I were on the Swim team together. When Stacy was in middle school.....
This doesn't have to be much it just helps a reader to get a general picture of the circumstance that the story takes place in.
3. The Event
Tell the story, just like you would if you were sitting with a friend and telling it. e.g. Then Stacy says "you just have to exude V.I.P." and walks past the bouncer and through the door.
4. How you felt
If you have an emotional reaction to the memory then people would love to hear it. This is what life is about, things happen and we feel and change, all good stories have feelings.
Thats it. You can ignore part or all of that if you want to. If you are a strong story teller get into it, if you are less confident then just have a crack and i'm happy to fiddle with structure for people if they want. You love Stacy, I love Stacy and we will all enjoy hearing each others little memories about our Stacy.
P.S. If you haven't already let me know if you are coming please do.
P.P.S Email stories to firstname.lastname@example.org if you cant be here on the day.
I didn't know there were going to be foreigners here.
July 2001 - New York City - Mike Neild
As it was my second year working at summer camp I arrived ahead of the majority of staff to help set up and organise the first season counselors.
One of my jobs was to take the big yellow school bus 2 hours south to the city to pick up a group of 14 or so new counselors who were flying in from across the country. I had a list of names and flight numbers however the camp owners had failed to give me the key piece of information which was that everyone was meeting at a pre-organised terminal.
I spent quite some time running around Laguardia International Airport looking for 14 different people I didn't know and wouldn't recognise, who were arriving at a range of times on a range of different flights. A challenging task for this moderately shy 20 year old.
Fairly exasperated and a little lost for direction I spotted a group of young and expectant looking people sitting around in a loose oval against the window of a terminal building. Having few other possible solutions I approached the group and spoke across the oval to some people who were facing my way.
"Do any of you kids what to go to Camp Echo?"
Before the people I was looking at and speaking to had a chance to answer, the person from the near side of the oval (who was rummaging around in her bag a foot or so in front of me) popped up directly into my eye-line in an explosion of curly blond hair, shining white teeth and bright blue eyes.
"I didn't know there were going to be foreigners here. Oh this is going to be fun"
Taken aback and I expect lost for words the young lady took control of the situation and introduced herself as Stacy. The Stacy Frey from my list. She quickly had me ensconced in the oval of waiting counselors and proceeded to go around the circle and introduce me with name and State to all the people on my list, whom she had herself just met in the last hour or so.
It was a wonderful introduction and despite having no possible comprehension of the far reaching ramifications of that meeting, the moment was struck firmly into my memory immediately.
Like a Tutu
Simone Mouritz - Brisbane 2008
This is a two-part story about small incidents that turned into life lessons for me, taught by Stacy. I dare say Stacy won’t remember them.
On a balmy evening in 2008, a group of girls gather at the Norman Hotel for a steak and a chat. Some knew eachother well (eg Sally and Gabby) and others were meeting for the first time (eg Stacy and my flatmate Alice). All were hanging on Stacy’s every word.
She was taking us through each and every detail of the day that Mike proposed. EVERY detail, from the ‘teach me how to use the camera’ line to the strangely familiar busker on the side of the busy New York street. Our favourite part was of course that precious moment when Stacy said ‘yes’ and the old lady pedestrian captured in the background of one of the photos had a look of elation as though it was her own granddaughter standing there with flowers, diamond ring and future husband.
Stacy then takes us through the style of her bridal gown. Her arms are weaving illustrations in the air as she speaks. The beading, the bodice, the fishtail style of the skirt. We are in raptures as we listen. Then we hear some snide remarks from elsewhere in the pub. Someone was making fun of Stacy’s ‘Montana-speak’! I remark under my breath ‘Asshole!!’. Stacy on the other hand, says ‘Oh please. WHO CARES’ and continues with the conversation.
On a separate balmy evening, a few months prior, a group of girls are walking back to our Noosa apartment after dinner, during a girls' weekend away. We are discussing fashion, as is always one of the topics of conversation when Stacy is present. Who knows what led up to it – it was too long ago to remember all the details. All I remember is Stacy pulling the hem of her shirt out from her body (like you would a skirt, ready to curtsy), whilst walking on tip toes in her sandals, saying ‘my shirt is NEW and I LIKE it because it’s like a TUTU!’.
Moral of the story
Don’t sweat the small stuff, unless the small stuff is fabulous like a tutu - then get ultra-passionate about it!
Refer to Liz's story in the comments for some context on these photos: