My Grandmother

Do you love old photos as much as I do? 

I'm a sucker for old photos. I'm always the person in antique shops going through the piles of old photos of random people, getting weird looks from those around me and even those who are selling the photos. 

When my great-grandmother died more than a year ago, I became even more interested in my family history than I was before, a history that has always been very vague to me. It was only at the funeral that I learned that my great-grandmother moved to America from Columbia after she became pregnant at the young age of 17. So I asked my grandmother if she could explain my great grandmother's life to me and if she had any old photo albums. I've searched my grandmother's house countless times for these kinds of photo albums but the closest I could find were pictures that dated back to the 70s where I could see photos of my mom as a kid. I cherished these as well but I wanted more. 

And so my grandmother and I sat on her bed, where in a near bedside cabinet, she pulled out a worn out photo album that included the photos that dated back to the 40s. I saw my great grandmother the youngest I had ever seen her, right after she had given birth to my great grandmother and I saw pictures of my grandmother and great aunt as a little girl up to when they were teenagers in the 60s. I was in love. This was what I wanted. 

It wasn't just that they were old photos but that they were old photos of my family. Of the people I knew. Of the people who I was connected with. 

I have copied the photos the best I can and I hope that when the time comes, I can inherit the album. They mean the world to me. These are the photos I am going to show my daughter when she asks about her family. This is what life use to be for our family. 

So the theme for this post on Valentines Day.

I love old photos and I love my family. 

Happy Blogging!