I feel so OLD. I have spent the morning carefully prying old photos off a bulletin board so I could copy them on the computer to be printed in a family album for my first great-grandchild.
I am going to see him for the first time this weekend. I want to have the album ready then. That is the race against time: copy dozens of old photos and have them comb bound into a handy album.
But the prints are fragile, they fall apart in my hand. I cannot believe how old they are...after all, I mounted them there myself. And there they have hung for over FORTY years.
Poor great grandson is getting copies of copies of copies. I took pains long ago to gather family albums and copy the pictures with the technology available at the time... a twin lens reflex camera. A lot of detail has been lost. Not only that, names are forgotten. Great grandson will have the faces of nameless ancestors.
The most recent photo in the batch is SIXTY years old...and it is of ME...at my wedding. I remember the day wall. Can I really be that old?