I love taking pictures. I'm sure you can tell by my little "photo shoots" I post here. I love capturing expressions, experiences, and memories in time. I love that photos can evoke emotions that we might otherwise forget.
Tonight I was looking at some photos on my computer and came across this four-generation picture taken when I was a baby (that's me - the baby with the invisible face).
I love to see how young my mom looks here - twenty-two years old (I think), holding her first baby. It's fun to see the clothes and hairstyles. The woman in the back is my great-grandma. I feel close to her even though I never knew her well. I remember swimming at the complex where she lived during the last few years of her life. We would go there when we were visiting Utah during my childhood summers. I remember her treat jar and her little white dog, Fluffy. My memories of her as a seven year-old girl are not what make me feel close to her. It is reading about her in my grandma's personal history, about the lemon pies that she would make for her neighbors when they weren't feeling well. It's the pictures that I've studied and scanned and connected with. It's a feeling of gratitude for her and all of my ancestors who lived their lives the way they did, influencing my life for good. Isn't she beautiful? This was taken in 1928.
This one was taken in 1946.
And I'm not sure of the year on this one.
I'm grateful they took the time to hand someone a camera and record what they were like back then. This is why I feel so strongly about pictures - they are records to generations to come that I was here, that I was happy, loved, and blessed.