Photo Memories

I was looking through some old family photos the other day. They are stored in the attic of my house, and existing in varying sizes and forms (some in frames). Most are loose and many are of people I do not know. The age of a few goes back to near the beginning of photography, the late 1800's. And even though I do not know all the people there is a certain bond I have with them when I see their faces, because I suspect they are family members and because the images open my imagination and memory to the past.
Family pictures tell tales about people, places, and events related to the members of our immediate family or their ancestors. The memorable stories of our lives and of others in our family take on special importance in pictures because they are real images of the past, even if everyone sees different versions of the same event. These pictures are family heirlooms held in both the heart and the hand. They are a gift to each generation that preserves them by remembering them and passing them on. I am saving those for Jane, even if she now has no interest in them. If Jane is lucky, she will develop that interest and benefit fromthem as I do today.
Do you have family photos that date long ago? Ever look at them and wonder about who you see when you do not know the person shown? Unfortunately, I did not have my mom or dad label the back of the pictures. Few were ever dated or named (isn't that the way it always is?) by anyone. I think I see my great great grandfather and great great grandmother from Germany in some. I base it on guesses that it must be them, for they have the look of the family and the age of the photos indicates it must be. Why else would so many pictures of them have been saved by the family?
I start to imagine what they were like, and whether stories I had heard of them are true. Both were said to be typically "severe" as Germans were stereotyped to be in that time. My great great grandmother was the second wife of my great great grandfather (the first died of illness, as so many people did at that time) and she was said to be loving and kind, more of a mother to her stepchildren (one was my great grandfather) than their real mom. I can see the gentleness in her face as I look at her picture.
When I looked at the many other faces of those I suspect to be a great cousin or great aunt or whatever, I realized the power of the photograph to ignite the soul as well as the memory. I am glad to have the photos as they link me to a past that surely had some influence on my present being.
But some photos make me feel sad. When seeing those I loved but who are now gone I feel regret that they are gone and that I can not tell them how much I miss them. My mom and dad come alive to me in those pictures. They remind me of those times and many other we spent, and of how lucky I was to have such perfect parents. But then I feel sad that Jane did not know them well.
My father died when Jane was five and my mom when Jane was five. It is Jane's loss not have been influenced by them as much as their own loss at seeing Jane today. The idea that they would both be so pleased and proud of their granddaughter if they were alive gives me some comfort. And in the end comfort what all of the pictures provide.