My Mom was always the crazy photographer at our family gatherings. She was the one putting the camera in your face, pausing the moment to capture the celebration in a photograph. My siblings and I would make outlandish faces only to have her say “I am going to take pictures until you cooperate”. My grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles and all the friends that came in and out of our lives were all subject to Mom and her camera.
Early in my life I remember our trips to the local drugstore to process her film. It would take about a week before her photographic treasures were ready. When she finally had them in hand she would gather us and proudly show off her captured memories as she put them into her albums. This photographic ritual was so sacred to her. I never paid much attention to what became of these precious photos. I knew the favorites were displayed in small frames around our house but the majority of the photographs were securely stored away in photo albums. Over time, the albums with all of our family’s vacations, holidays, birthdays and special events found their way too our attic. And like so many other things in the attic, they became forgotten. Year after year, decade after decade, the record of our existence continued to live, forgotten in the attic.
Now, many years later, we are all grown with families of our own. My siblings and I are packing up our parents house, preparing them for the next chapter in their life – retirement. While this is a daunting task there was one hidden surprise to lighten our mood, the treasure in the attic. Mom’s albums capturing our entire childhood. We spent the day flipping through the pages of the many albums, reminiscing our past, reliving birthday parties and vacations, laughing at our choices in style and remembering old friends. We taunted Mom, recalling her pleas for smiles and her demands for the perfect expression. It was so precious to have all our memories laid out in front of us at that moment. It was the perfect ending to a chapter. Mom packed up her special treasure, not yet able to part with the family that was living in the attic.
