For probably a decade, I've had all of my photo albums in my closet because my living room storage center has been overrun with toys. Plus, I've never wanted to subject the albums to sticky and/or grimy little hands.
In the past few months, I have moved them all to the center, and my children, particularly G, have discovered them.
A couple weeks ago, G found my photo album of Shankers and Gonzo. He began to cry because he hadn't been able to see and play with them when they were kitties. He asked if we could take the album downstairs and show it to Slippers and Skits. Although Slippers and Skits didn't care about looking through the album, it made G feel better.
In the past few days, he has discovered my and D's wedding album.
He saw the picture of me smoking a cigar (a long-held tradition of my dad's and his Air Force buddies, who have smoked cigars at all of their own weddings and all of their children's weddings.) He said, "Mom is smokin'," which I took to mean, "Smokin' hot."
Thank you, son.
He loves seeing photos of his Papaw T, who died in 2004 when N was a baby. He asks questions about my aunts and uncles who have passed away.
I don't look at my wedding pictures often, but when I do, I am reminded of how much of an old lady I was at 23- and 24-years of age.
Given how young I was, our wedding was very much like something a couple in their 30s-40s would have.
Instead of a disc jockey, we had a string quartet at our wedding ceremony and reception. We had two attendants: my best friend whom I've been friends with since 1988 and D's dad. We didn't smash wedding cake into each other's faces (I've never understood that concept; it seems to set the tone for a not-exactly mature relationship.) We didn't blow out the candles after we lit our own joint candle, which I never understood since your family of origin doesn't just drop off the planet after you exchange vows. Given how much our families of origin play a role in the goings on of the family we created together, it seems ridiculous to symbolically blow those relationships out.
Honestly, if I did my wedding all over again, I would do much of it the same. I wouldn't invite as many people (I didn't want to invite as many people, but parents will have their way at times). And I would choose a different location for the reception.
But the dress, the music, the attendants, and probably even the husband would be the same.
It is comforting to know that some fundamentals about myself haven't changed over all this time.
In the past few months, I have moved them all to the center, and my children, particularly G, have discovered them.
A couple weeks ago, G found my photo album of Shankers and Gonzo. He began to cry because he hadn't been able to see and play with them when they were kitties. He asked if we could take the album downstairs and show it to Slippers and Skits. Although Slippers and Skits didn't care about looking through the album, it made G feel better.
In the past few days, he has discovered my and D's wedding album.
He saw the picture of me smoking a cigar (a long-held tradition of my dad's and his Air Force buddies, who have smoked cigars at all of their own weddings and all of their children's weddings.) He said, "Mom is smokin'," which I took to mean, "Smokin' hot."
Thank you, son.
He loves seeing photos of his Papaw T, who died in 2004 when N was a baby. He asks questions about my aunts and uncles who have passed away.
I don't look at my wedding pictures often, but when I do, I am reminded of how much of an old lady I was at 23- and 24-years of age.
Given how young I was, our wedding was very much like something a couple in their 30s-40s would have.
Instead of a disc jockey, we had a string quartet at our wedding ceremony and reception. We had two attendants: my best friend whom I've been friends with since 1988 and D's dad. We didn't smash wedding cake into each other's faces (I've never understood that concept; it seems to set the tone for a not-exactly mature relationship.) We didn't blow out the candles after we lit our own joint candle, which I never understood since your family of origin doesn't just drop off the planet after you exchange vows. Given how much our families of origin play a role in the goings on of the family we created together, it seems ridiculous to symbolically blow those relationships out.
But the dress, the music, the attendants, and probably even the husband would be the same.
It is comforting to know that some fundamentals about myself haven't changed over all this time.
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