I’m not sure why this one particular photo album came to me. Perhaps because I’m the oldest grandchild, or maybe because my dad was the oldest child. Whatever the reason, I’m happy to have it.
There are images from the war, and many of my father and his sisters at a very young age. It doesn’t go in any particular order, but my grandmother labelled everything, so I can follow along.
This one is from the first Christmas at Bonnie Brae, or so I’m assuming.
This shows my father, and his sisters, and is one of my favorites. Bonnie Brae is the name of the farm where my father grew up. I don’t have any memories there, just images to look at, and that is due to a sad twist of fate.
My grandpa Stewart flew in the war, but sadly it was his heart that took his life. He got to meet me and my cousin Travis before leaving this world. From what I hear, he loved spending time with us. I also loved stealing bacon from him, or so I’ve been told. I got to spend almost 10 months knowing him, and I’m grateful for it.
My first picture with my parents and Stewart grandparents.
Every once in a while, I page through the two photo albums I received. I enjoy nostalgia. I have been called a ‘past focussed’ person. It doesn’t mean I live, or dwell, on the past, but more that I prefer that life. Technology is connecting us, but is also taking away from us. I like a simple life.
I wish I could have spent my childhood at Bonnie Brae. I enjoyed my visits to Fort Frances, but hearing about that farm made me wish I could remember the short time I had there. I have fond memories of that small town. I loved singing along to my grandmother playing the piano or organ, and pretending I could play as well. My father would play his guitar at home, so singing and music was a norm. I remember playing in the garden out back, and when I was finally big enough to walk to the park myself.
The photo album provides me with glimpses of a simpler life. Of the early life of my grandparents, father and aunts. I smile every time I look through it, and am happy for them.
These final images are from the war. Bombing of an area, and what was written on the back. I have a bunch, but decided on this one.
I know my posts usually are about my writing, so this is how it ties in. These are some of the things that inspire me. They are part of who I am, so I decided to share it with you. If it hadn’t been the twist of fate that brought me the photo album, I wouldn’t have a grasp on part of my past. For that, I’m thankful.