Dusty love letters. Bank books. Goofy family photos of the ‘40s. Decaying telegrams. I am up to my elbows in these, and loving it.
After two evenings of scanning photos and puzzling over the confusing Ribar family tree, I began to wonder why I was still as happy as a cricket in a task most abhor. Why does knowing my heritage delight me so much?
Ultimately, the best motivation to all this organizing is the new picture, even new perspective, I’ve developed of my late grandma, Dorothy Wagner Vinar. When I read pages of her diary and see the particular care she took to preserve mementos of history and of family moments; I am amazed at how much I share with her.
Tradition-making. Memory-keeping. I love these things, too, and the connection helps me remember what I loved about my grandma. The ethnic meals on Christmas Eve were a result of her wish to expose the grandkids to other cultures. The diary she kept faithfully, daily, with the intent of someday typing up a summary of her life, was meant to share a legacy, making sure it was not an unknown one. The pieces of nostalgia she treasured show me the depth of her love for her family, her empathy with their accomplishments and tragedies.
All in all, it’s been very rewarding. Maybe someday I can discover other facets of my heritage, but for today I am content with remembering someone. With knowing the photos, keepsakes, and traditions Grandma left behind will remind me of who she was, and of what she meant to me.
After two evenings of scanning photos and puzzling over the confusing Ribar family tree, I began to wonder why I was still as happy as a cricket in a task most abhor. Why does knowing my heritage delight me so much?
Ultimately, the best motivation to all this organizing is the new picture, even new perspective, I’ve developed of my late grandma, Dorothy Wagner Vinar. When I read pages of her diary and see the particular care she took to preserve mementos of history and of family moments; I am amazed at how much I share with her.
Tradition-making. Memory-keeping. I love these things, too, and the connection helps me remember what I loved about my grandma. The ethnic meals on Christmas Eve were a result of her wish to expose the grandkids to other cultures. The diary she kept faithfully, daily, with the intent of someday typing up a summary of her life, was meant to share a legacy, making sure it was not an unknown one. The pieces of nostalgia she treasured show me the depth of her love for her family, her empathy with their accomplishments and tragedies.
All in all, it’s been very rewarding. Maybe someday I can discover other facets of my heritage, but for today I am content with remembering someone. With knowing the photos, keepsakes, and traditions Grandma left behind will remind me of who she was, and of what she meant to me.
1 comment:
hi
how are yoy
from alicia pletcher
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