How on earth could this happen? Those of you who know me, know I am pretty good at entertaining and love to do so. You might also know that I love coffee. It sustains me and gives me life.
Having said this, when you get married and move to a new country … who is perhaps the single most important person in the WORLD whom you might wish to make a good impression upon? Well, that would be your husband’s mom, of course.
Early this week I found myself having to meet three publishing deadlines in three days. I was in deadline hell. I was exhausted and nearly mentally depleted, and had only one more deadline to meet the next day before I was able to finally rest.
It was at this point in time, that our door bell rang. It was about 4:00pm. I looked through the peep hole and there stands my husband’s mom! Oh. My. God. I’m confused. I’m taken aback. What the hell? Aili does not speak English. I do not speak Swedish nor do I speak Finish. I open the door.Read More»
I had no idea that my parents were such lovers of photography. They documented everything, especially my father, who it seems had a pretty good eye. As I prepare to move to a far away land, sorting through boxes and drawers, I’m stymied by thousands of photographs and slides. Each image screaming for my attention. Some I know. Some I remember. Some have notes and descriptions. And some are unknown to me.
As I wander through this pictorial history, I’ve found love letters and poems between my parents. I’ve discovered that my father was six years older than my mother. I learned that before they became engaged, they broke up for a time. I’ve seen the inside of their little house . . . the place they lived before my birth. I’ve watched the construction of the house where I grew up, knowing it took my parents three years to build it. I’ve been on vacations with them to Expo ’67, The World’s Fair, motorcycle tours, and dude ranches. I’ve been privy to watching my Mom prepare for an evening out… they often went out on the town, all dressed up, beautiful and bright. What a wonderful life they must have had.
Often my father would set up a scene for photographic composition. His favorite subject my mom…that is before I came along. Pennies spread across the floor, my mom looking gorgeous and sexy as she posed on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. What significance did those pennies hold? If I could only have an hour with them both, so they could explain these things to me.
Such a legacy few are fortunate to have. Snippets of history, not only of my parents, but of the world. And while my parents are no longer with me, they have informed through photos, who I am and where I came from. They have provided my sons with a history and now as I add my own photos to these boxes, I find that I too am a lover of photography.