Substance

The tarnished reddish brown box seemed to burst at the seams as my cousin Joyce handed it to me to place on the table. She had already perused the old photographs and news clippings just a few days before. These remnants from our cousin Joan’s collection promised to be pieces of cherished history from both the Millner and Gourley families. Although afternoons are not the brightest time for this reluctant participant in Parkinson’s stiffness and rigidity, it all seemed to be less bothersome as we both reveled at the sights before us. Many never before seen (by us) photographs were giving us a glimpse of a place and time one hundred years ago. Her dad was the youngest of the clan of ten children and my dad was the oldest. Then, there were all those kids in between who stood with bright smiles behind their mother and father and grandfather Millner. Deeper in the pile through which we searched was a portrait of our great grandfather, taken sometime near the turn of the last century. With hearts filled with gratitude for this opportunity to visually touch base with a part of our family history, we made our plans to scan all of the most significant photos into a file to electronically share with all the cousins that may want to have a remnant of points in time of generations past. Thankfulness provides such wonderful substance to memories past and those being made.