No secret.  I love photography.

And I have said it before, but I’ll say it again.  When I look at a photograph, especially one from a long time ago, it is like finding a hidden treasure.

It is like cracking opening a Piñata, even.

When I see it, and explore the treasure inside… I have the opportunity to go somewhere I have never gone before.  My mind fills with the stories that might be possible about that image.  I can see the scene unfolding.

It is a little like reading a book, or see in a movie… but better.

This photograph here… well….   this is my grandma.  She is second from the right…. looking down at the kitten.

This is a much different grandma from the one I knew.  I love to look back at the early part of her life.  She seemed happy then, and sweet, and filled with wonder.  She loved kittens for crying out loud.  She seemed affectionate with her siblings, and her mother.  She looked joyous.

Later in life, she didn’t seem this way to me at all.  She rarely spoke, and appeared to be sad, or down-trodden all the time.  I wonder what happened.  The “why” of it.

I doubt that I will ever know.

Yet.  I love to see the side of her that I never knew as a child.  I like to see the woman my grandpa fell in love with, and the mother of my mother…. beautiful and sweet. As it turns out, I am in the photo too.  Yep.  I’m’ in one of the eggs, in one of her eggs.  Really.

All in a photograph.

And.

That picture.  As they say…. is worth a thousand words.

“Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.” – Albert Einstein
“Just do what you do best.” – Red Auerbach