A Lasting Legacy
I have few pictures of my mother. When she was a child, just eight, her father died, leaving her mother a widow with three small children. There was no time for pictures to be made. My grandmother remarried and had more children so there was even less time later. There were the usual group shots, but few individuals. When my mother was a young teenager, the family moved to a larger house to make room for another child. Tragically, the storage building housing what few photos there were caught on fire and nothing was saved. Aunts and uncles that had saved newspaper clippings and such were quick to give my mother and her siblings what few items they had.
Later, once my mother was married and had children of her own, she started scrapbooking for us. She wanted to make sure that we had plenty of photos of ourselves growing. She included the few items she had from her growing years. She used the old construction paper type books. White pens with photo corners. And she glued everything with Elmers! But I love my scrapbook. I won't change a thing about it. See, it's the only real link that I have with my mother now. Because when I was eight, like her, I lost my parent too. I read every little caption, devouring it, trying to formulate a personality behind so few words.
Now that I'm a mother, I'm determined to make my presence forever known to my children. I journal the smallest of details. I photograph everyday events. Since no one ever knows when their last day here will be, I see scrapbooking as a way to leave a legacy to my girls. If I am gone before they are grown, they will have my words to read. They will learn who I am by the words that I write. They will remember their younger years by the photographs I have preserved.
Scrapbooking serves as a connection, a link, and in some small way, a bit of immortality.
Tomorrow at dMarie Daily: I Am a , by bennie, Murray, UT