As part of my mum's 70 Birthday present I have undertaken the task of sorting out all her old photos which were sitting in numerous old plastic bags. I have been at this for about three weeks and have laughed, cried and howled as I did it. One of the reasons I offered to do it is that mum can still not cope with sorting out old family photos now that my dad and brother are dead. I thought I'm strong, and can do this, but doesn't life just like to come and give you a good kicking? I have loved looking at old photos of my parents and their parents and grandparents, photos of grandchildren and friends but there was some I was avoiding. I did the ones of dad and my brother as adults but that pile of us as children... Today I made myself do it. Why are the pictures of my brother and me as young children the ones that most upset me? They are all now separated into envelopes of different times and people and events. I want to create an album for mum but part of me wants to avoid this at all costs. I suspect these will be albums with little journalling as it is too hard to write down just now. I might create hidden pockets for tags that we can journal on as we feel more able to do it.
I am scanning in a lot of the photos as I want to keep some for scrapping and others for good old photo albums and posterity. I am sure they will be gracing these pages in a few days.
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