Also see Memory Poems, Scrapbooking, Missing You, Heritage Albums, and Memory Song Lists.

Page Toppers


At What Cost?

The price we pay for the quick and the easy--
"slap them in and cover them up"
- may be a lost generation.
It's more than we can afford.

Note: This refers to people who put photos in albums with no writing as to who the people are or when the photos were taken.

The Gift of Memory

(Emily Barnes from the book, Timeless Treasures)

I have given many gifts to my children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews over the years. I suspect I will give many more before my life is through. Some will be simple, some extravagant, most carefully chosen, a few picked up in haste on the way to a birthday party. Some may be rare and unusual, the kind of gift that makes the giver hover excitedly while the paper is unwrapped. But even those incomparable treasures could have been uncovered by someone else--even, heaven forbid, by another grandmother. They're unusual, but they're not unique. There's only one gift in all the world that can be given by me alone, only one gift I can give that is truly unique. That is the gift of my memories, captured and preserved and passed on to the people I love.
Only I can preserve the timeless treasure of what I have lived, what I have experienced, what I have loved and learned. And this is the treasure that conveys my heart and my love to them most eloquently. Even the treasures that I make by hand, the blankets and pillows and toys, provide a mute testimony to my love for them. These things may add warmth and (I hope) beauty to their lives. They extend my thoughts to places where I can't be. But not even the most exquisite handmade treasure cannot communicate the way a picture can, the way a word can. Sometimes you have to tell the story by actually telling the story. And the gift of family stories preserved in words and pictures is an irreplaceable treasure."


Memory is a selection of images
Some illusive, other printed indelibly on the brain.
Each image is like thread,
Each thread woven together to make a tapestry of intricate texture,
And the tapestry tells a story,
and the story is our past.

Family Heirloom

(Jeannine Richardson)

For every picture you take a moment in time is remembered
A family's heritage is its personal journey through history
Memories will fade making the written word priceless
In every family someone must take time to preserve its past
Looking at the past can strengthen who you are today
Yesterday is gone, but the memories are cherished through photos and journals.

Hours of enjoyment are held within the pages of the family scrapbook,
Everyone has pictures . . . everyone has a story to tell . . .
It's not the jewels or china we would risk our lives for in a fire
Rich is the family who knows who they are . . . and where they came from
Learning to properly preserve photographs is not difficult
Old photographs lack the joy they could have when not preserved and labeled
Ordinary moments become special when captured on film
May we not put off any longer the task of preserving our heritage.

A Memory is a Photograph

A memory is a photograph
taken by the heart
to make a special moment
last forever.

And of all the memory-pictures
that happy times can bring,
the best are those
that families make together.

The Box at Grandma's House

(Martha E. Pearson)

The box at Grandma's house
Filled with years of memories
To be found in her mind only
No sign of who's in the photos
Or what event they represent
Many times we sat and looked
Through those memories
She talked, I listened . . .
But no notes were taken
Now she's gone . . .
The memories now locked in those precious photos and keepsakes
How I yearn for those times to be back
To write down those memories
So all will remember
The treasures of Grandma's life

Close your eyes, and go back...

Back before the Internet or the MAC,
Before semi-automatics and crack.
Before chronic and indo;
Before SEGA or Super Nintendo.

Way back . . .

I'm talking about hide and go seek at dusk.
Sitting on the porch, hot bread and butter.
Eating a 'super-dooper sandwich' (Dagwood)
Red light! Green light!
Chocolate milk. Lunch tickets.
Penny candy in a brown paper bag.
Hopscotch, butterscotch, doubledutch, Jacks,
kickball, dodgeball, y'all!

Mother, May I?
Hula Hoops and Sunflower Seeds, Jawbreakers,
blowpops, MaryJanes.
Running through the sprinkler!
I can't get wet! All right; well, don't wet my hair.
The smell of the sun and licking salty lips . . .

Wait . . .

Catching lightening bugs in a jar.
Playing sling shot and Red Rover.
When around the corner seemed far away,
And going downtown seemed like going somewhere.
Bedtime, Climbing trees, a million mosquito bites and sticky fingers,
Lincoln logs, erector sets, Tinkertoys,
Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, Sitting on the curb.
Jumping down the steps, Jumping on the bed. Pillow fights.
Being tickled to death; Running till you were out of breath.
Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt!
Being tired from playing . . . Remember that?

I ain't finished just yet . . .

What about the girl that had the big bubbly hand writing?
Licking the beaters when your mother made a cake.
Didn't that feel good? Just to go back and say,
Yeah, I remember that!

Remember when . . .
When there were two types of sneakers for girls and boys
(Keds and PF Flyers),
and the only time you wore them at school, was for "gym."

When nearly everyone's mom was at home when the kids got there.
When nobody owned a purebred dog.
When a quarter was a decent allowance,
and another quarter a huge bonus.
When you'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny.
When baseball cards in the spokes transformed a bike into a motorcycle.
When water balloons were the ultimate weapon.
When girls neither dated nor kissed until late high school,
if then.
When Saturday morning cartoons weren't commercials for action figures.
When your mom wore nylons that came in two pieces.
When all of your male teachers wore neckties and
female teachers had their hair done, everyday.

When it took five minutes for the TV to warm up,
And laundry detergent came with a free towel in each box.

When no one asked where the car keys were because
they were always in the car, in the ignition--with the door unlocked
When kids managed to play baseball without coaches or parents
Remember Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, Howdy Doody, the Lone Ranger,
Only the Shadow Knows, Roy and Dale, Trigger and Buttermilk

When you got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped,
without asking, for free, every time.
You didn't pay for air . . . or drinking water. And,
you got trading stamps to boot!
When any parent could discipline any kid,
or feed him or use him to carry groceries, and nobody, not even the kid,
thought a thing of it.
When having a weapon in school meant being caught with a slingshot.
When it was considered a great privilege to be
taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents.
The price of gas was affordable.
Milk came in jars with real bottle caps.

When they threatened to keep kids back a grade if they failed . . .
and did!
When being sent to the principal's office was nothing
compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home.
Basically, we were in fear for our lives
but it wasn't because of drive by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc.
Disapproval of our parents and grandparents was a
much bigger threat!

If you can remember any of these things, I smile with you.
Talk of these things to your children.
Don't let these memories fade away completely.
Just talking to your children, friends, or loved ones,
and trading memories is a joy.

Life goes quickly. Seize it!
And don't forget to thank God for it!

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