Memory Lane: February 25, 2010

i knew Gram & Gramp in their golden years. when i flip through my stacks of old family photos, though, i often linger over the ones like this. this young couple that is unmistakably these two dear people i was blessed to have as grandparents. and yet they are unknown to me. we are, each of us, so many different people over the course of our lives. looking back over my own 33 years, i can see all the people i have been, some who have been shed in favor of a newer, hopefully better me, and others who have come along for the ride, meshing together to form the person i am right now.

in this photo, my Gram was 24 years old. Gramp was 23. it's February 15, 1941, and they are young parents of a one-year-old. my father isn't even a twinkle in my Gramp's eye yet. i observe Gramp's proud beaming smile, as he holds his baby girl. i look at Gram's loving gaze upon the two of them.

and i wonder.

i wonder what she's thinking. i wonder what it was like to be a young mother then. i wonder where the photo was taken. i wonder if it was a mild Winter that year--based on the way they are dressed for a day in mid February. i wonder who took the photo.

i want to ask a hundred questions. i want to see my grandparents hold this photo in their hands, watch the memories drift across their faces, hear their stories as they surface. isn't that the way with photos? you look at one, and there's a "surface story," the obvious one that can be seen in the elements of the picture. but the longer you look, there's always more. you remember something that couldn't be captured. or it triggers another memory, invisibly linked, as it can be only in the mind of the photograph's beholder.

i want to ask a hundred questions. i want to learn all the stories. i want to see through the younger eyes of the people i love in this photo.

but i can't.