Do You Remember?

Written and illustrated by Sydney Smith

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-986-9

40 pp.

Ages 3-6

October 2023

 

Remembering someone who is gone, whether through death, divorce, or moving, is a mix of grief and comfort. It's remembering the good times but never forgetting that loss. Do You Remember? is the sensory experience of a young boy and his mother remembering times when his father was still with them.

From Do You Remember?, written and illus. by Sydney Smith

Lying in bed in the dark, a mother asks her son whether he remembers a picnic in a field. She recalls the bugs and snakes the child looked for, but he remembers the sweet berries. They continue to trade remembrances, always asking, "Do you remember..." He recalls when his parents gave him his bicycle and he lost control, falling into a haypile. Then she recalls "the rainstorm" of the hard rain and leaking roof, thunder and lightning, and then the loss of power which led to the burning of Grandpa's old oil lamp.

From Do You Remember?, written and illus. by Sydney Smith

With each memory, there is that beginning idea, and then a multitude of vignettes involved in that memory. Perhaps most significant for them is when they left their home behind, and travelled further than they ever had, and got lost. That's the memory but the vignettes shows us the boy's dad handing him a teddy bear through the truck's open window, then waving to them, and the child holding the bear as they enter traffic and get lost. The memory is not just one of leaving: it is one of carrying boxes, a dad's face, a dad's wave, the many cars, watching from the back seat, holding his bear, and then seeing the source of all those memories stacked against the wall in their new place. The bear, the oil lamp, the bicycle, the picnic blanket–they're all there.

But do their memories have to remain in the past? Or are there new memories to be made?

A memory may be but a moment in time but it's a complex amalgamation of spoken words, foods tasted, textures touched, emotions felt, and images processed. It's seeing and feeling everything and incorporating them into a memory. It could be a sad memory or a joyous one, but it's all wrapped up and available to return the one remembering to another time and place. But, as Sydney Smith demonstrates, these memories are just part of the whole, of the past and future, of good times gone and future experiences still to be had. And loss and pain can play with those memories. In the case of this child and his mother, there has been a separation of his parents, and the consequent moving to a new home. Whatever rift has contributed to his parents' separation, his mother encourages him to remember times with his dad. She has not put her animosity, if she has any, ahead of the needs of her child. Instead, she encourages him to remember and to share in his remembrances too. There is tenderness in their exchange, understanding that there may be hurt below the surface and caution to not create more discomfort. They are tentative but honest, and that sincerity obviously comes from love.

Sydney Smith's illustrations, primarily watercolour and gouache, show a sensitivity for what the family is going through while demonstrating the strength of connection between mother and child even under these circumstances. They neither ignore nor rail at their heartache for their losses of father, husband, home, and established family. They look back but still forward. There is darkness–they are speaking at night in bed in their new apartment–but there are moments of lightness both in the past and in their future–as the child opens the window to the light–and Sydney Smith gives them that in his soft and thoughtful art.

From Do You Remember?, written and illus. by Sydney Smith

Sydney Smith dedicates this book to his mom, and his words and art honour parents who must move forward with a different family configuration. This mother, and undoubtedly many others, had to find ways to help their children accept new circumstances while not giving up on everything from the past. They remember and are loving enough to ensure their children do too.