Monday, June 6, 2016

Monday Musings

I recently was loaned a book of old family photos which feature, mostly, my mother.  I remember seeing these photos many years ago (like maybe 30) and am delighted to be able to scan them to digital images.  It makes my heart glad to see this spunky, funny kid smile out from the past.  1938, and 1939 to be exact, at least these pictures are:

The porch photo reminds of something from the Lil' Rascals.  The studio portrait shows she had a wicked sense of humor,  even then.   The oldest of 5, her last sibling came along when she was in college.

While my mother and I had some strained years when I was a young adult, we are on a good footing now, and have been for many years.  It's good to have her as a friend, to share a drink and a meal and talk about good times.  My husband is really good at getting her to laugh.  Sometimes the tears come up in her little crescent smiling eyes, and her smile is spread as wide as can be.  She recently turned 81, which is pretty darned good considering she has been living with Parkinson's since she was 65.

I guess I'm at that age where family ancestry finally seems important.  I just joined and have been looking around on the site.  Not a fan of the Church of Latter Day Saints, but they do do a great job in genealogy.  I just don't want them to posthumously baptize me, like they do.  (What is up with that?)  I've already contacted someone on the site, who is the niece of my paternal grandmother.  

It's good for me to be reminded that many came before me, and that many will come after me.  It's important for me to remember that my stiff and slow moving mother was once an imp of 3 years of age, knit hat and sweater keeping her warm.  Cuddling in her father's arms.  All dressed up for her birthday party with the neighborhood girls.

I wonder if, some day, my grandson will be looking up my information.  Will he find and read some of the scandalous posts I've written?  What will he think of his grandmother's life?  Will he pass on the information to his children and grandchildren?

Damn but that big ol' wheel just keeps on turning.

Speaking of big ol' wheels, see this recent discovery in Britain.  Talk about your ancestry.

1 comment:

  1. I was having a conversation recently about remembering family who had already passed on. I never met my paternal grandmother Rose (who I am named after). She died in 1950, and I was born in 1952. It struck me how amazing it is that I think of her and love her, and yet here it is 66 years after she's been gone. When grandchildren grow up hearing the stories, seeing photographs, being reminded of the lives that came before them they carry it all with them. Long after we are gone the grandchildren will tell their stories to the next generations who we will never know, but who will know of us.

    Love these photos of your mother, tara.


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