Family Wall

When people enter our home one of the first things they say is how warm, and inviting our home is. I always thought this was strange because we lived very simply. Most of our furniture was hand me downs (and not even the nice hand me downs). What little new furniture we had was very simple and plain. When I kept hearing this over and over I started observing the differences between my home and other homes and I discovered the reason why. Family Photographs.

When I was around six years old, my mom,  two sisters and I moved in with my maternal grandparents. My Grandma Rebecca loved photographs. She had a family wall of photographs in the family room where tons of  8 x10 photographs hung on the wall. There were individual photographs of her parents and her 11 bothers and sisters, and my Grandpa Johnny’s parents and his 13 brother’s and sisters. The wall held wedding photos of her parents, her siblings and my personal favorite, the wedding photo taken outside her little one room house with my grandfather.  There were photos of my grandparents as a young engaged couple, her as a young mom, photos of my many uncles in uniform during war time and my Uncle Nay in his Pacific Coast League Padre uniform.  There were photos of the families in large groups and small. I loved how the smaller groups gave you an insight of their individual relationships.

This family wall of pictures mesmerized me, and the many visitors who came into our home. The house was a historical site and visitors always wanted a tour. They would ask my Grandma Rebecca about who the people were and she would name each person and tell a little of their story. Some stories were funny, some sad and some inspiring. I felt like I knew these family members personally even though I had never met some of them, they were a big part of my life just the same.  When my great aunts and uncles would visit and linger at the dinner table and tell stories of when they were younger I could immediately picture them in my head because of the photograph on the wall.

I knew when I grew up I wanted a wall like the one my Grandma Rebecca had in our home. I knew I wanted my future children to see pictures of their aunts, uncles, and grandparents as young individuals so they could picture them in their mind when they heard the stories around the dinner table.  And now as visitors come into our home they are intrigued with the many family photographs on our wall. They ask about each individual and I find myself telling stories just like my Grandma Rebecca did so long ago. Even though she has passed I still feel a connection to her when I look at my family wall, or when I look through old photographs. I can hear her telling the stories. Thank you Grandma for sharing with me your passion so I could make it mine. I love you and miss you deeply.