About a week ago, I (along with my mom and two aunts) went down to my grandmother's house for the first time since she passed away. It was really strange walking into the house without hearing her yell "Y'all come in!". I went there to go through the boxes of old photos she kept under her bed so that I could bring some of them home with me and scan them and make copies. As we were sorting through the old pictures, newspaper clippings, cards, and letters, we shared many stories, laughter, and held back tears. My heart sank when I realized there were so many photos of people that none of us recognized and there was nothing written on the pictures to let us know who they could have been. If only those photos could talk. I know they each have a story behind them and there must have been a reason my grandmother kept them for so many years. They were special to her. If she were here, she probably would have been able to recall a great number of them. Now I suppose we'll never know.
A few years ago, scrapbooking became my favorite hobby. It started out as just something fun and creative to do, but it has grown to mean a lot more to me than that. I cherish my albums filled with memories. And I hope one day my grandchildren and great grandchildren will be able to look through those albums and know who their ancestors were and what they were like.
Here are a few photos I took that day. And yes, I am going to scrapbook them.
No comments:
Post a Comment