“Treasured Memories,†or Wherein My Mother Reaches Out From the Grave to Crack me Up.
Some of the things I inherited when my mother died about 16 years ago were a few dusty boxes of photographs. The boxes had resided in her attic for, well, … forever. After her death, the boxes resided in my basement until they were moved to the House by the Parkway (South).
A few days ago, I began the process of going through the photographs to see what was worth keeping, discarding the then-obligatory scenery shots, which with a black and white snapshot camera were almost always a waste of film. (Yes, “film.†Ring a bell?)
Anyway, when looking at old photographs, it’s easy to become lost in a bit of melancholy – images frozen from the past, when people, now dead, were alive and when those who are still alive are much older and beginning to consider what happens at the end of the line.
As I was lost in the nostalgic moment, I came across my sixth-grade class photo. It was an 8 x 10 picture of Mrs. Marshall’s class, professionally shot. If you wanted the picture, you brought your money into school and weeks later you would receive your photo. It came in a folder that looked like a single-picture album, which is to say that there was a thin cardboard-like cover, which when opened showed the photo framed in the same kind of thin cardboard-like material. The “cover†of the single-photo album bore the title “Treasured Memories.†Got it?
On the inside cover, as a sixth grader, I had written the name of each student who appeared in the photo. As I examined the photo, I was pleased to see that I could have named each kid without the help of the names I had written with a clumsy hand so long ago. Seeing all the faces and knowing that several of those pictured are no longer alive, I harkened back to the title of the album thinking that these were indeed “Treasured Memories.†I also thought fondly that my mother must have felt this way as well, for, after all, she took the trouble of saving the photo for all those years.
Having spent a few more moments lost in mine and my mother’s “Treasured Memories,†I flipped the album over and took a look at the back and saw the following my mother’s handwritten note in pencil:
Jim,
Your socks are in the dryer.
Mom
I howled with laughter. So much for “Treasured Memories.â€
The deal was that it was matter of my working mother, probably running out the door at some ridiculous hour of the morning to spend the next eight hours in a factory, who was unable to find a piece of paper and who wanted to leave a critical message to her still sleeping and potentially sockless, sixth-grader son.
I like to think that she somehow knows that she made my day today with the note she left me more than fifty years ago.
Treasured Memories, for sure.
Oh, how simply perfect! *snif!* Something in my eyes. . .
Comment by Joan of Argghh! — October 11, 2010 @ 8:59 pm
Yeah….I got a box full of photos from yesteryear myself Group photos from first grade, second, third & fourth along with individual photos from later years complete with all my School report cards including my 9th grade card where I fudged my Latin grade in the last semester.
My mother who passed away 21 years ago had left a message for me ….”Son , Don`t think for a minute this got by me!..Love Mom!”. Funny, an almost forgotten transgression surfaced years later , wonder how Mom kept her silence all those years. Treasured memories perhaps but the adage “Mother always knows” proved to be true.
It has been 15 years since I discovered that yellowed piece of paper but I still look at it occasionally usually on mom`s birthday in private when I can relive some of life`s unforgettable personal memories.
Comment by dudley1 — October 11, 2010 @ 9:05 pm
…. that is beautiful, man…….. the boxes of photos that I have of my Grandfather seems to be of all my old Great Uncles dressed in uniform & cradling or cuddling some young dusky maiden circa 1944….. talk about a mental image that I could do without!….
Comment by Eric — October 11, 2010 @ 9:10 pm
[…] Jimbo at the Parkway Rest Stop has a delightful, simple and priceless one for you. Go read it, and then thank your mom, where ever she is. This entry was posted in Uncategorized. […]
Pingback by You Need a Smile | Primordial Slack — October 11, 2010 @ 9:13 pm
god, that is so sweet.
Comment by Mr. Bingley — October 12, 2010 @ 7:57 am
I am sure that your mother knows and she is smiling at the memory.
Comment by Kevin — October 12, 2010 @ 2:07 pm
Excellent, Jim. That’s one reason I love old photos. Heck, of just about anyone.
And…
Get thee a scanner and share!
Comment by Mike R. — October 12, 2010 @ 4:28 pm
This is absolutely classic!
I can’t believe you remembered every name. I’m going to a band reunion next weekend with my best gf of 30 years. I’m terrified. I told her, “You have to whisper to me who everyone is , what year they graduated and what instrument they played.” I’m completely screwed. I’ve gone to far as to email a couple of the guys I hung out with and said the same. I figure between the three of them… I might be saved. And this is from HS, not from frickin’ middle school!
Comment by Bou — October 14, 2010 @ 6:15 pm
Jim:
What a wonderful find! Oh, how memories can bring such warm comfort.
Jacki
Comment by Jacki — October 15, 2010 @ 9:03 am
That is a great story. I can just imagine how many times you have considered tackling the photo sorting project and put it off.
Comment by Harper — October 15, 2010 @ 4:14 pm