Baby Mama

Aside from their record collection, I also happened to notice that many of my parents' photo albums were in a sad state.  Flaking off the yellowed pages, adhesive dried to dust long ago, they were in desperate need of rescuing.  As such, I've spent the better part of the past two days, crouched on the floor, piles of photos splayed out around me as I carefully sorted and catalogued them one by one.  I happened to start with my mother's albums which had a surprising wealth of photos from even the earliest parts of her life.  Born as the youngest to a large family in post war Korea, there was never much to go around particularly if you were the bottom of the pecking order. I had heard enough stories of my mother's childhood to know that photographs were something of an improbable luxury.  But there they were, falling from every page I turned, not unlike the last remaining autumn leaves outside. To me however, it was like uncovering a hidden treasure.  I've always loved old photographs, but knowing that they were pictures of my family made them all the more fascinating.  My favorites so far have been my mother's baby pictures... perhaps because it's hardest to imagine my mother having ever been so small.  

In fact however, I had seen several of these photos before, but I feel like each time I find them again, I see them with new eyes.  I am beginning to notice that depending on what stage of life I'm in, different details will stand out to me.  It's as if over time, the photos are gradually coming into focus.

Two days and I've barely gotten past my mother's high school pictures.  It goes without saying that this is only the tip of the iceberg.  Overwhelming? Yes.  But more than anything, I feel grateful that we have such a wealth of photographs, lucky to have the time to study them, and honored to be tasked with rescuing them.


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