The 'Good Old Days' oftens gets muddied through the filter of many goodolddays memories. More often than not they did not seem so good at the time. Bills to pay, jobs to secure, houses to maintain. Good Old Days only get that way after many sunrises, birthdays, and the changing landscape of time.
This is a snippet of The Good Old Days. The place appears to be the back porch of the old homestaead in Seaton. There's Herb's radio between us on the table - the one he always listedned to the farm reports - once a grain elevator guy, always a grain elevator guy. Marj must have taken this pic, I never saw Herb handle a camera. I am in my 80's porn star look, complete with cheesy mustache. The current Mrs. Blythe looking radiant and two kidlings enjoying the moment. Are we tickling to egg on their smiles? Possible, but don't remember. Doesn't make any difference - those smiles are genuine and emblematic of happy kids. It is the only validation I need as a parent.
It is sometimes a rare occurence to have all participants in the grandparent ritual of picture-taking to cooperate not only with dutiful smiles but happy abandon. This second, out of millions, is a one such occurance. Maybe this is the picture that fully displays us as us. This is what I remember as the Good Old Days.
Comments
Post a Comment