memories

I took a trip out to the east end of the Island to visit my grandmother earlier, the only grandparent I've really ever known well (the parents of my father dying before I was born, and my mom's father died when I was 4). Knowing that I was planning to peruse photos of my family on my mom's side, she pulled out several photo albums. For a few hours we sat together, went through these albums delicately, and she told me stories I had never heard before about my extended family.

It's amazing how photographs can conjure up so many emotions and thoughts - I called my mother while I was looking through all of these photos and although I heard that authoritative voice I had known all of my life, I was picturing the 7 year old version of my mother in her communion dress standing on a porch in Huntington in 1963, thanks to several pictures of this event I had just seen.

After already getting a stressful workload in the first week of classes, it was nice to clear my mind for a bit looking through decades upon decades of photos. On my drive home, I didn't find myself thinking about the pages of readings I had to do for the upcoming week, but about the amazing memories my family has accumulated over the years.