Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Sepia Moments


The moments we cherish. They pile on after 63 years. In fact, they become more precious as time passes. Of course they do, you say, but do we really realize what we have in those glimpses of that singular moment in time?
I have a trunk of my favorite pictures. They range from my parents’ time to that of my grandchildren. Some have yellowed over time. Others are wrinkled from love and from being removed from my old photo album. No one will appreciate these as much as I do for they are my moments in time.
When my parents passed, we divided the pictures and albums between the three sisters. I came home with an album of my mother’s covering her younger years through the early years of her children. I had never seen this album before. Mom’s pictures were always tossed into an old suitcase or the albums hidden away in drawers and boxes. She isn’t here to tell me who these people in sepia tones and black white are yet I know they are those moments that were precious to her, stories of her past. The storyteller in me recreates the moment reclaimed  from another place and time in which I had no part.
I have several pictures of people I don’t know along an album of pictures she gave me long ago of young people in their late teens and twenties. Beautiful people so fancy free and full of life. People not so different in their beautiful countenances made even more fascinating by their clothing and hair. Precious moments caught on paper. Mom has written the names on this one:
Front row: Roy Honeyman, Josie Marker, Lawrence Rhoades, Charley Stoltz
Second row: Altha Kreider Shuff, Josial Eikenberry, Iva Kendall
Of course, Honeyman Woods was right down the road. Normal Rhoades (Lawrence’s daughter) was my teacher. All are a part of the past I know nothing about and yet they have touched my life. Their children and grandchildren were my neighbors and classmates.
A photograph capturing a memory, a flash in time, captures my imagination. The imagination of girl once living on Neff Road.

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