Today we spent a few hours at my grandma's house, scanning pictures. My brother invited us to come help. We had three scanners going, digitizing decades and lifetimes.
I saw the first picture I've ever seen of my uncle Todd, who died of leukemia when he was three. They thought he had the mumps, but he never got better. By the time they learned what it was, there wasn't much more to do.
I saw a picture of my grandparents, newlyweds of only a few months, at my grandma's high school graduation party. I heard the story of how they got married because they thought the Ogden guard was going to get called up to go to Korea, but the Logan guard got called up instead.
I heard how it took my grandma a while to realize that Daddy Ike and Ma Bradley were just different names for grandma and grandpa.
I read an essay my uncle had written twenty years ago about my great grandmother, and got to know both of them better in the reading.
It was a beautiful time. Until all three of my kids starting screaming. Then it was time to go.
I need to make more time for family history.
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