Monday, February 18, 2008
Grandma F., August 1968.
After Grandma died in January 1998, I went through her house searching for color slides. My mother, for who knows why, had thrown away the slides we had once had. "We don't have a projector" she had said when I asked her where they were. She also threw out almost all of the negatives. Sometimes you just want to say mean things.
So anyways, I found a handful of slides and took them, since I fully expected them to be thrown away too. Today our receptionist at work scanned them for me. The vivid color on some of them is surprising.
Grandma is 58 in this picture, standing in her garden at her house in Traverse City. I'm certain Grandpa F. took the slide, he was almost always behind the camera. That garden still produced vegetables and flowers when I was a kid. I well remember helping weed.
It's strange to think that other people live in Grandma's house and that I can never go back there, or even if I did it wouldn't be the same.
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After Grandma died in January 1998, I went through her house searching for color slides. My mother, for who knows why, had thrown away the slides we had once had. "We don't have a projector" she had said when I asked her where they were. She also threw out almost all of the negatives. Sometimes you just want to say mean things.
So anyways, I found a handful of slides and took them, since I fully expected them to be thrown away too. Today our receptionist at work scanned them for me. The vivid color on some of them is surprising.
Grandma is 58 in this picture, standing in her garden at her house in Traverse City. I'm certain Grandpa F. took the slide, he was almost always behind the camera. That garden still produced vegetables and flowers when I was a kid. I well remember helping weed.
It's strange to think that other people live in Grandma's house and that I can never go back there, or even if I did it wouldn't be the same.
