On the Christmas we moved from our house in Bridgewater to Stow, I asked my daughter to give us two collage frames so that I could showcase some of the many family photos we inherited. It has taken me nearly three years to get it accomplished. Some needed to be vertical, some horizontal. Some had to be enlarged; some cut. Then, I saw the perfect collage frame that said "Family". Yikes. Then, I had another grandchild born. More photos for the collage. Sigh.
You get the picture, right? Well, today I finally got the photos in the frames. Hubs is trying to get them hung up this weekend. I suspect that I need one more for the wall. I'm not telling him that, well at least not yet.
When I first had access to a scanner and a computer with photo editing software, my friend and I tried to scan and eliminate the yellow from some of my 1950s photos. I have finally edited as many as I think I will ever need. But, this past week, I found one of my favorites in the wrong envelope. I immediately scanned it. It was one of the same photos but was black and white.
It looks so old. Dad looks so young. My parents living room has furniture I don't remember. The moral to the story is that sometimes, you just have to stop researching and work on the story of your own life.
We are half way through the month of October. When the holidays start up, time seems to disappear.
I wish I could sit in Dad's lap and just read. He died sitting in a comfortable chair in the very spot in this photo.
He would be happy that I have spent most of this year working on the story of his parents. I now know so much more about my Scot ancestors. I think about how pleased he would be at the progress I have made.