Captured Memories

Grandmothers residence; When I was younger stepping into my grandmother’s house was the only thing that kept my smile going, that’s what the old photographs lead me to believe. Going back in time I cannot picture myself being in the same room with my biological parents, yet alone them being together. They have been happily divorced for over a decade. The old photographs that my grandmother has brought to my attention tells me otherwise. I was the blissful child in between my parents and two siblings. Most of the photographs took place at my grandmother’s house in Mecca, Ca. a small town located in southern California, and all the memories that have been captured still reside there.

The only memories that I have with my parents ever being together is the old photographs, I wish there could be more than just memories that happened to be captured. So from those memories I try to picture myself and force myself to remember more, but nothing comes to mind. The photographs that my grandmother has kept for me at her warm soothing home have captured special events such as birthdays and holidays.

The photos are kept in a creamy brown television set, on a certain shelf to the left hand side. The album color is a dark chocolate cover, with a strip of creamy brown down the side, it contains over a hundred pictures. I’ve had the habit since I was younger to pull them from the shelf and repeatedly look them over, it never seems to get old. I’ve looked at them many times, but never seem to get the same reaction. The older I get the stronger my emotions connect to the photos. One single photograph can captured more than just a moment. It can tell and teach you a long learning experience. People take photographs for granted, and others secure them as much as they can.

My grandmother’s home holds a strong aroma that lingers throughout the house and in your clothes once you leave, it’s as if it marks your clothes. Entering the door you can only hope for the fresh, warm tortillas being wrapped up in a Mexican tortilla holder placed on the kitchen table of six. Once I’m ready to eat I tend to grab the photo album, and start zooming through it, and I also start to ask many questions. It’s been a habit for years that I would not want to break.

Knowing that someone behind the old electronics had the time to capture these wonderful memories that cannot be brought back to life has a huge affect on me. Dealing with my parents being divorced at such a young age has bothered me over the years, but old captured memories must be left behind. Everything happens for a reason, and I believe that those pictures have a purpose, a purpose that I might not know of. Not being able to remember what was going on with my parents before the age of five has bothered me. My two siblings do remember my parents being together and both have shared memories that they can be talked about. Unlike me, mine are caught on camera. Life does remain going on and it is my duty to make the best out of life and to make both of my parents proud.