All Around the Table
Yesterday, after the overgrazing on the Thanksgiving foods, we sat around my sister Kathy’s table and sorted through most of the photographs that my mom, Sybil, and my dad, Carl had saved and stored. Even though they aren’t there any longer to enjoy the meal, we felt them close as we looked at the photos. There were photos of past generations and ones of those who have grown to adults now.
School pictures, those awkward bookmarks in each life, separated one growth spurt from another. They showed the “in” fashion of the time, hair styles, and glasses. These are pictures that make us smile now, but to “fit in” was desperate stuff, back then.
We found one photo of my great-grandfather Austin Beck and several of my great-grandfather Rugg. I remember him and a great uncle Wesley. There were other old photos of Great-uncles and great-aunts as well as photos of my Granddad Beck and Anna, my grandmother Beck together. We found some of my Granddad Raymond Miner and some of my grandmother Rebecca Rugg Miner.
Some photos of young people that are no longer here, but passed. I think those were the hardest, most of them were just into their early, early adult years. The pictures were in no specific order and the randomness of finding the sad ones among the amusing and funny increased the impact of both.
My sister, Kathy, said that she had the same expression on every photo, “Get away. I don’t want my picture taken” even the one in the frilly dress. One photo (black and white, of course) was of her with a hat on drooping down over her eyes as she played with Mom’s purses.
Some were of all three, my pigeon-toed stance prominent on many. Some were of just my brother Ken and me, playing in the yard or sitting on Dad’s car.
Many were gifts of wedding pictures and graduations. We decided to pass them along to family members who will cherish them more than we will. Maybe they will display them instead of locking them away in an attic.
Memories and stories floated around the table as did the aromas of our meal just past. Memories are meant to share.