I’m at 9,300 words in my grandmother’s history. This week I have written about forbidden marriages, ocean voyages, WWII valor, sacrifice, family traditions, family recipes, and a lullaby. I’ve gazed at baby pictures of people I only knew after they had wrinkles. I have laughed, I have cried. I have seen how my great-grandfather looked in Paris and smiled at his beret. My source materials include letters written in the 1990’s to me, copious notes from Grandma’s stories, photographs that Paige took of photo albums and objects, my great-grandmother’s collection of newspaper clippings and photos, slides that I have painstakingly scanned over the years, and previous histories and careful genealogy work by my dad and aunt. I have had a Finnish letter translated. I have hoarded and identified every photo I can get my hands on. We have done some of my family’s temple work. Whenever I revisit family history, it fills my life.
My mom just finished her parents’ history and shared it with us on Sunday. It is a treasure and I came to love my grandparents even more through the reading of it.
The more I learn, the more I see that Norman Rockwell was painting OUR STORY! That little redhead on the top could be my Mark.