If you’re ever invited to my parents’ home, this is what will happen: Mom will hug you before you get two steps passed the threshold, you’ll see the sea of shoes around you and take yours off too in deference, my mother will hand you a plate (for the giant feast my parents have prepared) and then my mom will take your picture as you lift a forkful of food to your mouth. We have a picture of almost everyone who has been a guest at my parents’ home.
Both of my parents have been snapshot enthusiasts since before I was born. My father who was in the military took thousands of pictures of his tours all over the world (hopefully I can catalog those soon before the memory that goes with each image slips away as all memories eventually do). My mother takes pictures of every ocassion, which can range from someone coming over for dinner to the latest blooms of her amazing garden. Our whole life has been wonderfully captured in pictorial detail.
Right now, I’m slowly working on scanning family pictures into a digital format so we can archive them and also have prints made for my siblings and me. Decades before scrapbooking became the rage, my mother saved clippings from birthday cards, lists of attendees, award ribbons, etc. and handwrote captions next to the pictures she affixed with photo corners into paper albums. They are a treasure to us.
I’m going to try to walk in her footsteps. I’ve always taken lots of pictures and have been pretty consistent with organzing them into basic albums, but I’ve only recently understood the importance of adding some journal-type entries. It’s through my mother’s tireless efforts that I have her added insights into my childhood as well as my heritage. I also can see the world through my parents’ eyes and, wouldn’t you know, it’s a pretty place.
Thats a pretty amazing picture, and a great little story. It must be great to have that kind of resource available. Being able to see your childhood from your parents perspective is a real gift.