I don't even have to know
who they were.
I have been known
to adopt people;
to give them a name
and add them
to our family.
We have gained
Emily,
Jack,
Anna
and
poor Clara.
We take
thousands upon thousands
of photos now.
I suspect that the
solitary
family photo
from the turn of the century
will always garner
more interest,
more examination,
more stewardship
from people
who don't have a clue
who they are,
than the multitude of photos
that we produce now.
A shoebox
would contain most people's lives
back then;
now
it's an external hard drive
or cloud back up
for a year or two of
images.
A shoebox
would contain most people's lives
back then;
now
it's an external hard drive
or cloud back up
for a year or two of
images.
Old, old photos:
even without
archival ink
they survive
even if their stories
don't.
Funny about not even knowing who they were. I once bought a lovely old portrait in a bubble-glassed oval frame of a young girl making her first communion, her rosary hand-painted onto the picture. When asked by someone who it was, I replied "Grandma"...someone's Grandma. And it's still her name today.
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