A box of memories

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve received two boxes which were filled with precious things.

The first was a box of photos which came from my uncle. He had gone through the boxes of photos that he had and divided them up between the four of us who would have wanted them. These are pictures of Lake Tahoe and my childhood there. Pictures of my dad and the rest of my family who I spent summers and holidays with until I was a grown person and circumstances changed.

These photos are a treasure trove of memories that I can mine for precious gems to hold and feel and recall. These pictures also serve another purpose. They are tangible evidence that such a place as exists in my memories was a reality. Because this place that we inhabited there, in that place, in that time, in that way, does not exist anymore. It only exists in the hearts and memories of those of us who were there. Many of the people are gone now; either passed away or moved away. The structures have been remodeled or torn down and replaced. These things are gone into yesterday the way most things do.

But there are pictures.

That is what came for me in the mail the other day.


But wait, there were two boxes, right?

You may have noticed that I like to write. I think of myself as an artist. I often use brushes and paint to paint pictures. Another tool I love to use to paint with is words. As with any other medium you manipulate it, sculpting and carving, adding layers and cutting away until your satisfied that it will describe the feeling and convey the message that you want it to. I tend to write short stories and essays (hello blog!). I also write a lot of poems and songs.

What I did not know was that when my Grandma was younger she collected poems.

She clipped them from newspapers, back when newspapers might publish a poem or two.

She copied them out longhand. Sometimes she typed them up.

Sometimes she typed them up on the typewriter at work on their letterhead.

If you are younger and don’t remember what a typewriter is- you can probably google a picture of one. They are what was used for nice, tidy correspondence before the computer was invented. They are also the inspiration for some of the fonts on your computer.

In 1993 (it seems like a century ago, doesn’t it?), my uncle rounded them up and put them together in an album for her as a christmas present. My dad and uncle discussed it and decided that I would probably be the one who would appreciate this book the most. My uncle emailed my to ask me if I would like to have it. All I could say was, “yespleaseverymuch.”

And that was what else came in the mail for me.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Jerry Crane
    Jan 18, 2010 @ 08:44:29

    Brook, I had no idea you were such a talented writer. This piece left me with a tear in my eye. I am glad that you have Ruths poetry too. you are such a kind gentle soul and it shows in your words..Love Jerry


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