Having a Kodak moment

Since my mom’s death organizing has taken on a new meaning.   Certainly it is part and parcel of “I don’t want my children to have to do this”, but it’s more than that.   It has slowly dawned on me that I’m the last one standing.   If I don’t get some of the (literally) hundreds of photos in order and labeled with the names of the subjects, much of my children’s family history will disappear when I do.

My goal is to create an electronic set of all pictures for each of my kids so I can pass the actual pictures, clippings, etc. on to people who would appreciate having them.  My mom kept everything, so I have newspaper clippings, photographs, even funeral cards, that might add to someone else’s family history. 

And so it was with respect for today’s technology and an honest understanding of my un-technical nature (I am the family test-dummy)  that I set out to find a way to handle these photos.   I looked at iPhone/iPad software…too work intensive to do these one at a time.   I checked out chute fed photo scanners…financially impractical. There is a company to whom you can send the whole lot and they scan them and return them to you on a nice, silver disc.  My own deeply held beliefs about Murphy’s Law keep me from trusting these cherished photos to the US Postal Service.

Finally my son Brian, the family keeper of technical knowledge, located a little scanner on line called a Doxie.  For just about a hundred dollars he picked up this handy gadget that is simple enough for me to operate (the biggest consideration) and makes the scanning process a breeze.  I’ve scanned three hundred photos so far, and now I am in the process of learning the software to see just how much editing capabilities it might have.   So far I’m impressed!

This project will go on for months in my spare time. By turns I’ve dissolved into giggles and tears as I go through mom’s old photos.  I am touched by the young couple who became my parents; struck by my mom’s beauty and my dad’s good looks, not to mention his head of black, crisply curly hair.  Their obvious joy at being a newly married couple is evident in a photo of mom leap frogging over my dad’s shoulders.  There are pictures of their friends, young and strong and holding babies who grew up to be my friends.  Most of my parent’s friends are gone now, or in nursing homes. 

This little project reminds me that each person with whom we come in contact is a chapter in the story of our lives.  I’m at the point now where many of these chapters are now closed; I know how their stories ends.

There are rewards for doing this…I’ve discovered some real treasures in this box.  I truly do not believe I ever saw my dad’s mother smile.  She’s been gone a lot of years, but I’m betting this picture of her with a sweet smile on her face was a treasure to my dad.  I found pictures with mom’s scrawl, “my best buddy”, a cousin she talked about often.  Another photo simply bears the last name of a young soldier to whom she was engaged when she met my father.  I think that must have been tucked into this old box to be pulled out occasionally as an ‘I wonder what would have been if…’ photo.  I am curious about the conversation that might have started if I had only taken the time.

One photo of my dad, circa 1945, shows him sharply dressed in a top coat, the scarf knotted around his neck looks quite dashing; I didn’t think Pop ever owned any dressy clothes.  So much of my parent’s young lives is displayed as I go through these pictures; I wish I had gone through them years ago when I could have asked the questions that now tumble around in my head.

The older I get the more I believe in looking for the lesson in every event. This heap of old pictures left to me is a reminder that nothing lasts forever.   The lesson gleaned from that is spurring me to plan a family soup night that will include soup, home baked bread and old photos.  It’s high time we have this session before my children find themselves sitting alone with pictures that hold so many questions… and no one the provide the answers.

                                                       Life is Good