Quite a few years have been lived near a sea or an ocean. I love the smell of it, the tang and the salt (if it's salty) but what is really awesome is when you can lie in your bed with the doors open and listen to the waves rolling in....it lulls you to sleep, it is so peaceful. I am trying to put together a huge book of all the places I have seen and lived in. I guess, what I want to say is that I use a photo with a special meaning to me with little interest if it's fifty years old and hence all the more precious or if it is new but not sharp or clear enough. The memories are there and that is what counts for me.
I create heritage pages of course (and some of my genealogist friends will understand
this) to preserve heritage. Not just a specific person but the entire life around them. So
with each page usually goes another blank page with history accompanying it.
|my dear father at Nuerburgring circa 1930|
|my father ca. 1926 (age 16)|
and in between I make sure to think of my family and their children and just how much they mean to me in spite of any geographical distance. After all, did my parents not have to live with the same kind of circumstances?