Tangible: something that can be touched or felt…

Today is Tuesday. It started out damp and cloudy but ended liked I had hoped it would; warm and sunny with the brightest of blue skies. It is incredible how a spirit can change when the weather takes a turn for the best.

This morning, after my chores, I decided to sit down with a cup of hot tea and reminisce with pictures of long ago.  I often find myself touching the faces I love on those black and white pictures, yearning to hear their voices. Memories of hugs, kisses, laughter, and tears along with special moments are treasures to me.

After looking at each picture, I placed them on my dining room table side by side; as if they were visiting. These precious treasures are better than any jewelry box filled with gold and silver.

As the pictures change from black and white to color, memories of my siblings, parents, picnics, weddings, reunions, and everything in between, bring smiles but also tears. The pictures of Mom, Dad, and my sister, Emma which I hold so dear to my heart, remind me of how much I loved them and how much I miss them. I remember the hugs, kisses, and tears on the day I said goodbye to each of them.

Then I pull out the pictures of my children who are grown with families of their own, and I can almost hear their little voices. I run my fingers around their faces, and over their hair and instant happiness fills my heart. Then as I pull out all the others; school, football, baseball, cheering, graduation, Christmas, birthday’s and once again, everything in between, smiles of happiness, then a tug thinking how quickly time has passed.

Finally, pictures of my grandchildren, birth, infant, crawling, walking, crying, Santa, making hearts, egg hunts, school, baseball, football, soccer, playing the guitar, playing the drums, graduation, girlfriends, weddings, smiles, lots of laughs. My heart is full, and so is my oval table. But there is one little empty corner.  Just enough room for my two great-grandchildren pictures. Their smiles warmed my heart.

As I stood there gazing from picture to picture, row to row, my heart soared. Each generation, brought their hearts, ideas, love, spirit, and sometimes stubbornness, to the family, and for that I am grateful.

Soon it was time to put all the pictures back in the three old round hat boxes.  I picked up each one as I walked around the table and gently kissed each image. Finally, I carried my treasure boxes back and put them under the sidebar until the next time.

I am thankful for the black and white, and colored pictures that always fill my heart with joy.

Published by cynthiajeandeluca

My name is Cynthia Jean DeLuca. I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. I believe in following your dreams and never giving up! Helping others is very important to me, for when we help others, we help ourselves. It is my hope to make a difference in the lives of children and grown-ups. My hobbies are writing, quilting and painting. I am a novice at all three but, enjoy them immensely. I grew up on a farm with no indoor plumbing and no heat in our upstairs. I love life and have a very strong faith. Working on inspirational short stories for grown- ups. Love to speak on topics that touch my heart.

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