Saturday, October 8, 2011

Photographs and Memories.

Photographs and Memories;
All the love you gave to me;
Somehow it can't be true;
That's all I've left of you.
   I barely remember my grandparents. As a small child in Monroe my grandparents lived in the house next door to us. By all accounts from family and friends that knew them tell me that they were both very good people.
   Both of them died less than a month apart in 1993, Fred March 28, and Marge April 22. I was seven. I know that I had memories of them, but I can't recall those memories anymore.
   My grandmother had a lot of health problems, she was bed ridden my entire life, and many times, even before I was born her doctors gave her less than six months to live. I've been told by my family that they think she only lived as long as she did because of me. She used to smile so much whenever I would run in the door to tell my mother, who was her caregiver that my dad ha dropped the expletive hammer or whatever other thing he had on his foot, of course I didn't know not to use that language back then.
   I can remember sitting by her bedside and talking with her for hours, but not anything that either of us said. I have no real memories of her.
   Pop was the healthy one of the two, or so we thought. After he died the family found out that he had several types of cancer and hadn't told any of us because he didn't want anyone to worry while his wife was in pain and needed help.
I know that when I was little he used to take me to the store and get me toy cars, I say get because he would shop lift them, pulling them out of his pocket after we would leave the store. Again though, I don't remember this happening, I only know of it because I've been told it happened by other members of my family.
   I don't have any pictures of them either, nor does my father to the best of my knowledge. We just weren't the type of family that took a lot of photos back then, it was after all many years before digital photography.
   Last week when I got home from work, I logged into the computer to check my e-mail, and saw that someone had tagged me in a photo on Facebook. Innocent enough I clicked the link to see what it was. I didn't know what to expect as the person that tagged me was my dad's first wife, mother to my three sisters. I thought maybe it was a picture of me with them as a child, or of one of my nephews.
   The second the photo loaded, two things happened. First I smiled, second I started openly crying, unable to control my emotions for a few moments as staring at me was my grandfather's face from sometime 20 years or more ago. There were several other photos of my grandma, my sister's, and other members of the family was way back as well.
It was a pleasant surprise, and I'm not sure why I cried, but I just couldn't help myself. At least I was home alone so no one had to see me do it. It was a very bright spot in a week that had otherwise been dragging on, for that I thank you Sue.

Edit: Just wanted to let the reader's know that this will be running as a column in the Wednesday edition of the News-Herald.


  1. I really wish I had more memories of my grandparents too and that I had a chance to see my grandfather on my father's side before he died.

  2. I have so many partial memories, or things that I'm not even sure that they are memories because I've been told that it happened so much I'm not sure if I'm remembering for myself or what I've been told.