Have you ever noticed how much meaning an old, frayed picture holds? And if it is in black and white, it is like sunshine in December!
This past weekend, I was at my mom’s house. I went downstairs for something and found old photos strewn across the downstairs bedroom. I suspect that they were left over from Hurricane Sandy. Her downstairs was largely destroyed along with years of photo albums. This group of pictures was sort of stuck together but not so much so that I could not pry them apart.
The first was what looked my dad’s college graduation picture. He was so young, but his eyes never changed.
Then there was a photo of my dad holding my daughter. She could not have been more than one week old. Pretty special.
Followed by mom and dad’s wedding photo. It was a proof with my dad’s handwritten instructions to the photographer with an arrow “More Hair Please.”
Of course, photos and photos of grandchildren at different stages of life.
I could keep going. Countless photos with countless memories attached.
I vowed to go down there one day and organize all of the photos. I look forward to time to sit and study one by one.