As along as I can remember, Christmas has played an important part in my life.

My earliest memory is of going to St George’s to assist my parents as they decorated my grandparents’ Christmas tree and the long drive back to Somerset nestled under a tartan blanket my parents kept in the car for just such an occasion.

My husband remembers reluctantly going to bed listening to the bells of St Theresa’s Church playing Christmas carols well into the night. He also remembers that his mother decorated the tree on Christmas Eve after they had all gone to bed. Our grandchildren often ask him to retell the story of his childhood Christmas growing up on Dundonald Street. It seems mine was far less exciting.

Most families have Christmas traditions, but as families we must, in this busy world, take this season to talk with our parents and older relatives. I am begging you to put down your mobile phones and recapture the art of conversing with one another.

We recently took our granddaughter to lunch and there I sat like a relic from the past. She simply had to use her phone to see what her sister in Britain was doing — and her grandfather set no example! It was a sports bar and his favourite football game was playing.

“Really,” I said, “Can we just talk!” I should mention that they didn’t even hear me?

In this year we have lost many seniors and with them family histories. Unless you took the time to talk with them, important details of your family history have been lost for ever. May I also add that this includes your families’ vital medical history.

Today, I am singling out three prolific verbal raconteurs of Bermuda history who this year moved on to glory — Brownlow Place, Quinton Butterfield Sr and Frances Goodchild.

How fortunate I am to have known them and how fortunate I have been to have the ability to listen and write their descriptions of a Bermuda few of us are familiar with. I can still hear the joy and excitement in their voices as they recalled Christmas in Bermuda when they were children more than 90 years ago.

Every family have a history, and Christmas is the perfect time to ask questions.

I have been fortunate that my father kept diaries, and how lucky I am to be able to read about the events leading up to my birth, four days before Christmas more than 80 years ago. I have continued this practice and often wonder what will happen to my written recordings of our family. Hopefully, there will be a family historian in one of my descendants.

Not everyone wants to write, but you can talk about your Christmas traditions and someone in your family will remember many details and pass the information on to another generation.

Last year as our family gathered on Christmas Day, we brought out the picture albums and remembered family our grandchildren did not know — photos of their great-grandparents and family long gone.

Our 12-year-old granddaughter questioned why there were no baby pictures of her, yet we had pictures of her sister and cousins. To our dismay, she was correct. She was born in the era of digital photography and is the only grandchild not captured in our photograph albums. Pictures of her are stored on our phones and computers. I could see the look of disappointment in her demeanour. We had moved into a new era and she was the unfortunate loser.

For her 13th birthday, my husband downloaded her baby pictures and all the years leading up to the magic age of 13. He put them in a Shutterfly Book, which we presented to her on her birthday. How special she felt. The only grandchild with a book entirely devoted to her — a child of the technological generation.

This Christmas, get out your photograph albums if you still have them. I say this because I’ve met seniors who sadly reveal that their children have thrown away albums and family mementos in a “clean-up” simply because they did not know the people in the pictures or the significance of Grandpa’s war medals.

Is it possible that we are at fault for not taking the time to impress on our descendants the value of family mementos and traditions?

I once again implore you during this Christmas of 2024 to put down the mobile phones and recapture the joy of talking with your family.

Yes, Grandma told that story three times before, and Uncle is boring you to death, but this year stop and listen — they feel that what they are saying is important and has value. In fact, ask them a question or two. I firmly believe that because we no longer converse with our family members, we are quickly losing the histories of our families and by extension, the history of our island home.

• Cecille Snaith-Simmons is a retired nurse, historian, writer and author of The Bermuda Cookbook