A Family History

On our bookshelf sits five photos that are dear to me. The first photograph is an Easter portrait of my sister and I from 1979, complete with a painted lemon yellow sun and pastel colored plastic eggs. The next one is a Christmas portrait from 1980, we're sitting in front a backdrop with a cozy fireplace. Every time I look at these two pictures I am overwhelmed. My mom had it hard raising us. We lived on Government cheese, butter and rice in a house rented out from my great-grandma. And that's when we were in a "better" position in life. Before that, it was by the unfailing grace of God that we survived life. These photos stand as mementos of sweet times that were knitted within times that I am thankful to forget. But, I often wondered, how we could afford these luxuries in a time when we were given five dollars a day for groceries. That thought leads me to the next photo that I treasure. It's from June 21st, 1975. It's the wedding photograph of my grandma and the love of her life, Elmer Hooker, my grandpa. My sister and I come from a long line of very strong and dominate women; this was our method of survival. My grandma helped my mother in ways that cannot be counted. She taught her to be strong, and to fight for us. My grandma also was responsible for those photographs, without which, those sweet times would have been suffocated out by the dark ones. And now, when I look at the last two pictures on our bookshelf I see them through the lens of the first three. They are my daughter, Ava's first valentines photographs. She is my sweet angel and I am thankful that she wont have to deal with the things I had to in my childhood. However, I am thankful that I experienced the things I did in my own childhood because it has taught me to cherish every moment and every struggle in my new life as a mommy.