The importance of a photograph

This past weekend I made a trip up to Michigan to see family. The whole weekend felt different to me than the other trips I've made over the years. Mark and I drove around Trenton where my mom grew up and where my grandparents lived. We drove past my grandma's house - about three times lol. I kept asking him to drive past again and he patiently obliged. We drove downtown where my grandmother used to walk and do errands and where my dad used to take us kids to the magazine store. The store is gone and is now a daycare, but you can see right where the store used to be. We drove over the big bridge that always told us kids we were nearly to grandma's house. It was all such a comforting and somewhat sad feeling.

I spent a lovely day with my aunt - something we rarely get to do since we both have children. She showed me a slideshow she made for my great aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary. I was determined to be strong and not cry. I knew it would exhaust me if I showed too much emotion. Then this photo came across my computer screen. I cried. I held it in. A little, but it just really got to me. This one little image means the world to me. My grandfather adored me and this photo really shows me that. I love how I'm looking up at him and he is probably telling me something about his garden. This was the summer of 1973...I was nearly four. He died the following April. I have a few memories of him, but I have many precious photos of us together. He didn't smile in many photographs, but he sure smiled at ME in the ones of us together.

So, I just wanted to share my "moment" with you.