Sitting around the fireplace roasting marshmallows for s’mores, we listen to my grandmother tell a story of her childhood when her mother cooked baked beans every Saturday night for supper on the kitchen wood stove no matter what the season.
I sit back and cherish this living history that my 90-year old grandmother is sharing with my young daughters. I cherish it as much as the photos that I have of my grandmother’s mother and the one of her mother, my great-great-grandmother. I am lucky to have those photographs. Scratched, faded, and tattered as they might be – I can put a face to the story – the story of Emma soaking and baking beans on the kitchen wood stove in the middle of July in the late 1920’s.
The history of my life is marked by these moments, whether milestones or something wonderful about a random Saturday afternoon. The thing is I never know which moments are going to stick with me. I wonder which ones are going to stick with my daughters, when they are telling their own grandchildren stories about me.
For me, a great photograph brings back a memory, a smile to my face, and even that tight feeling in my throat, as I try to hold it back. The most cherished images bring a tear to my eye, and one of the best compliments you could ever give me was telling me that it did the same for you – not because it made you sad, but because it made you FEEL.
I help clients remember their family and themselves as they truly are. Clients love my ability to capture beautiful and creative images that mark a moment in time – a milestone or just a fun Saturday afternoon together as a family. Those memories are best captured when you’re feeling relaxed, casual, unguarded, and engaged in your surroundings.
So, you just read my new “About Me” that readers see when they click on the link above. This is me. And for this post introducing it, I wanted to share one of those photographs.
My grandmother, Mary, is the little girl in the front row with her hand to her mouth probably giggling about something her sister Esther, behind her, said about their brother. Her mother, Emma, is in the middle row almost all the way to the right dressed in a light colored dress. This is the Jones Family – 1929.