Flowers wilt, but not the memory of the one who sent them . . . . .

I’ve been going over pictures in my computer. So many of them! Partly because for years I have brought my photos over from one computer to another, never wanting to give up a one of them, and somehow they multiplied.  I bought a new computer this week and I must assume it could well be my last one, so I don’t want to fill it up from the start. Some  pictures have to go.

Oddly, working all day at this, I did not find the task too difficult. Pictures that would have no meaning for my family, but pictures that were precious to me, were already memorized in my mental hard drive. I can pull them up at any time and see exactly what a scene looked like, what people looked like. So it’s not really a time to get sentimental about my favorite pictures.

This is the gift of vision, which we all have to some degree, and it happens to be my strong one. In my new book, which I just proofed and sent off for publication, I will speak of this and other spiritual gifts that we use and take for granted but which give us a great deal of help through our lifetime.

My children, perhaps like me,  have books and computers and discs full of pictures, and are already wondering what to do with them.  In fact, they have more than I do. In my early years we did not have money for “extra” things, like cameras

Probably the photos I should leave are the ones of things my children never saw, the people who formed our family background and the things they created from nothing. . . . the brave people  who left everything and came over here in a boat and made a life. The ones who fought in a war or built a business or saved the farm.

If my kids inherited anything I hope it is that kind of ingenuity, faith, and ambition.

Flowers may wilt, but not the memory of the ones who sent them.










1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Dan Lester
    Sep 13, 2017 @ 13:15:36

    Thanks. I’ve been deleting things too.

    I’m 74 and about 20 years ago I scanned dozens of her albums but only ones that contained family. She had hundreds of pages of pretty scenery of unknown places and of unknown motor home parks. They lived in theirs six years with only a mail drop for an address. They loved it but no point in saving things that had no meaning to the rest of the family.


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