A picture is really worth a lot

The other night I found a picture of me as a baby. I am about 9 months old, sitting in a high chair in our kitchen. I have a somewhat perplexed look on my face, as babies often do. What caught my attention is the stove and something on the wall behind me. Memories of my mother cooking at that stove came flooding back as I looked at the photo.

I suddenly remembered the little wooden hanging shaped like a teapot that hung on the wall. It's funny what you forget when you leave home like I did at 17. All the little knick knacks that were in your parents' house don't seem that important until you see one of them and it triggers your memory. My brother gave me a picture that was in my parents' bedroom a while back, and it hangs in my laundry room now.

It makes me a little bit sad, because the house we grew up in left our family after our father passed away (it's a long story that I won't go into) and now it's been torn down.

I sent the photo to my son and daughter-in-law. They both loved seeing it, and my daughter-in-law even saw a little bit of our Rosie in that photo.

I wish I could take my Rosie to see where her Mimi grew up, but that house is gone now. They tore down my elementary school years ago, and even my high school was closed and the students sent to the county high school. Thankfully, my high school's buildings are being used by my hometown for other purposes.

I have decided to take the enormous project of cataloging our photos on again. I'm doing it for Rosie, her mom and dad and for her future siblings, if God blesses us in that way.

(I hope this time is not as tough as the last. I have finally gotten to the point where I can see pictures of Lauren without totally falling apart.)

So, when you look at photos of yourself when you were a kid, notice the other things around you in the room. Sometimes, it's good to remember.

Baby LaJuan