Yesterday was Grandparents' Day, in case you didn't know. Another holiday probably invented by Hallmark for commercial purposes, but it serves my family well since it's a reason to gather everyone and visit Lola.
Lola, as we call my grandmother from my mom's side, is my last remaining grandparent. Among our grandparents, me and my sister were always closest to Lola. We used to play at her house when we were kids when mom and dad were at work. I remember going with her to the public school where she teaches 2nd Grade English when I was about 4 or 5 years old, and sitting in the classroom with the other students as she teaches. Then when we moved to Bataan and she was already retired, she would visit us and stay with us for weeks at a time.
Lola was a very big part of our childhood. And probably one of the best.
While we were at her house yesterday afternoon, she took out the box where she keeps her pictures to show us the most recent photos she has of one of our cousins. My mom commented that Lola should put the photos in an album since most of the most recent photos are loose. But Lola said she has no need for more albums. When she's gone, she doesn't know who will want to keep the photos she has collected over the years anyway.
I'm not sure why, but her comment made me a little sad. I guess because in my heart, I know it to be true. Not only for her, but for all of us.
We spend our entire lives collecting memories: small items of great sentimental value... but are useless artifacts to others. A flower pressed into the pages of a book. An old dorm room key. And pictures... lots and lots of them: the story of one lifetime.
What really happens to them when we leave?
I saw an old album in Lola's box. I' ve seen those photos before but never really gave them much thought. In an effort to preserve part of my family's memories and history, I borrowed the album and scanned the photos. I hope these will be easier to keep than the originals and hopefully will last longer.
Here are some of the photos from Lola's photo album.