Friday, October 2, 2009
The other day while I was putting the kids down for a nap, the doorbell rang. It rang twice actually, indicating that it was the mailman. The neighbors usually knock (we all have kids and we all know how annoying it is when a kid is woken up by an obnoxious doorbell, so we knock), and anyone else would probably only ring it once, so, I knew it was him.
After both of the kids settled down and I didn't hear a single peep from either of their rooms, I came downstairs and started on some chores (the dishes had been staring me in the face all day). The best time to haul ass and get things done, is the first 10 minutes after they've passed out, does anyone else find that to be true? So anyways, halfway through cleaning a pan full of crusty peanut butter oatmeal, I remembered that the mailman had come!
I ran through the dining room, flung open the door, and there to the left, in the corner where all the bugs like to hang out (of course, why would they put my mail anywhere else?), were two large priority mail boxes from Washington.
In the middle of baby clothes and books, dress up costumes and accessories, was a zip lock bag filled with my baby pictures.
Oh my god.
Cue the waterworks.
I've mentioned over and over again, how I don't have any pictures of myself from when I was younger. No baby pictures. I know my parents must have had a camera, did they just choose not to use it? I guess they didn't have the digital technology that we have now, which really makes taking pictures a breeze, but... I know that pictures must have been taken, where are they?! Growing up without pictures of the past has always left me feeling kind of empty. Especially since most of the family that I grew up with, is no longer with me in one way or another.
I don't know how I old I was in this photo, there was nothing written on the back of it (or most of the photos in the bag, for that matter). I can only guess that its when my parents first brought me home from the hospital? What I love most about this picture, other than my moms awesome feathered hair and my Dad's giant mutton chops, is how my Dad's hand is resting on my Mom's shoulder. The love in this picture overwhelms me.
What is that? That bunny looking thing with purple troll doll hair?
Here I am a couple years older, holding the same
doll bunny ...toy thing. Whatever it was, I must have loved it.
I'm so happy to have gotten all of these pictures in the mail. My mom got them from my Aunt, who I'm guessing probably took most of them (as in, her hands were clicking the button down on the camera, not took as in, "these are mine, muahahah"), as I was growing up. I'm so grateful for the flood of memories that is sloshing around, not quite settling, just behind my eyes as I look through them all. They've all got a scent, as well. They smell like love. Comforting and old, like they've been been passed through fingers of my family tree. Its so emotional, having this part of my past back. Just like Rose said to Jack... I'll never let go.
Oh come on, you had to laugh at that one.
Oh! And I was just thinking, I would really love it if y'all would participate in Flashback Fridays with me? It could be anything, an old photo, an old poem, a specific memory, whatever. If you're not prepared to do it this week, maybe join along next week? If you want to participate this week though, go ahead and email me your blog link, and the link to a photo (flickr photos are preferred), and I'll post them at the bottom of this post. And if you'd like to participate next week, please do the same. Email me the link to your post, along with the link to a photo, and I'll get it set up. I love Flashback Fridays.