Pictures Come Alive

A hot, sultry Sunday afternoon––far hotter than it should be this early in June. I was hanging out at my mom's and decided to sift through her small collection of videos. Only two were actually purchased movies. The others were family recordings of weddings, anniversaries, along with a couple of church promos that I tossed. I found one with my grandfather's home movies on it, compiled some years back by my uncle. I guess our grandfather had one of the early home movie cameras, and took quite a few movies. I had forgotten about it.

Mom and I sat spellbound for 90 minutes. I was not alive when these movies were made, but they brought to life photos that I've grown up looking at and hearing about. My grandfather and his brothers playing their harmonicas--now I saw how they joked together as they played, and the picnic table laid out nearby. The very familiar family photo with the navy son (the uncle that put the films together for us) who had been fooling around pushing his navy hat back on his head before the photo was taken. Little kids were running everywhere and were scooped up and arranged. After the photo was taken, my grandmother gathered up an armful of hydrangeas (she always loved flowers, but hydrangeas have always reminded me of her the most.) And then the baby photo with my parents and their first born. How cute to see the expressions my sister made, and how my parents played with her. And, since the movies were in color, I found out that she is all in pink from head to toe, including blankets! It all was a bit surreal, like I was peeking in on something, seeing how things really were beyond the staid photos.

I saw sweethearts (my mom and dad) whisper to each other and laugh. What were they saying? I saw someone  tease my mom and she cover her face with her hands in shyness. Unfortunately these were silent movies. But my uncle had put music in the background. That always makes it a lot more emotional for me.  I swallowed back tears as I looked over at my mom, sitting there engrossed in her past, seeing her beloved as a young man, and many loved friends and family members. She turned to me and said, "They've all gone to heaven, every one of them." (Well we did see one friend who still lives at 91).  What must that be like for her?

We're extremely thankful for the younger generations, three new great-grandbabies being born this year, and new home movies for the new memories.