Sunday, February 8, 2015

The album

Family History Writing Challenge - Day 8

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then I have a novel’s worth of writing. Most of the pictures I have added to my recent posts were scanned from my grandmother’s photo album.

As I gently turned the black heavy paper I saw pictures of my grandmother as a teenager in the early years of the 1900’s. There were pictures of the woman, who I only knew as an older adult, being playful at the beach, hanging off a granite monument, sitting 'in a field having a picnic.  As another page turned pictures of her siblings and parents appeared, visiting her at her home in Lubec; followed by the photos that have, along with my mother & uncle’s stories, inspired my current writing.

By the time I was born, my maternal grandmother was the only living grandparent left on either side. My parents already had two children and been married over 15 years. My earliest recollection of what my maternal grandfather looked like was based on a wooden statue of a ship captain at Perry’s Nut House in Belfast, Maine. Every year when my family stopped my mother would walk through the door and say to me, that looks like your grandfather. It wasn't until I found my grandmother’s photo album that I actually saw pictures of him. Then not only did I have a face to go with the name, but I had pictures of his life and family in South Lubec. I often wonder if the reason I am so intrigued by my mother's childhood is an attempt to get to know this man who was her father, and by writing her family history as a way to bring him to life.

A few people have asked if I am from Lubec, I am not. My mother and Uncle are, and it appears I may have distant cousins that live in the area, today. I would love to own that geographic pedigree, although I am also proud of my hometown in Connecticut. I do however consider Lubec, my second home.

I have been writing for 8 days now, with another 20 to go. I hope my readers continue to enjoy the writing and the pictures I am able to attach. Each night as I read to my Uncle and my mother, more memories surface. I was going to write about Sardine sandwiches on a Sunday night, but at this time I will just say good night as the snow continues to fall outside my little house in Central Maine.

1 comment:

  1. Your writing makes it possible for me to remember the sound of the fog horns, the feel of the fog, and the smell of the salt, the currents while negotiating The Narrows in a small boat with my uncles. Thank you for bringing these things back to me. Lubec is my second home, too, and it has been way too many years since I have been there.