Thirty plus years of photos lay in piles along my kitchen counter, on my table, on a bench. Piles separated first by living location, then by Christmas, Easter, birthdays, first days of school, family gatherings, camping trips, vacations.
Snippets of our lives that came from twenty four hour days, years made up of 365 of them, yet they fill a
3 x 5 or 4 x 6 paper and a host of memories come flying off the paper held in my hand.
Remembering when runs through my mind, some memories are clear, some memories take a while to shake awake and bring to the forefront of the memory store where I can take it off the shelf, blow the dust off, and look at it closely.
The hairstyles, the clothes, the cars, the decorating styles have all changed subtly through the years and I guess that's how we change inside too. Subtlety.
Change comes minute by minute, hour by hour. One picture at a time.
It's not rocket science, this life we live. It's life. The moments come and go, the memories of them stick around for awhile then go to the deep files of our brains until a picture, or a thought, or a story brings them to the forefront and we can look at them and laugh or cry or shudder and then the memory is put back on its shelf for another time of sifting through snippets of our lives.
Just Write 93