My mother has been working on the really cool book project for the past several months, putting together a photographic history of the Espanola Valley. She has been unearthing all kinds of neat pictures. Among my favorites:
Popo (second from L)
Grandma
These are my paternal grandparents, circa 1945, I'm guessing. My grandmother worked at Espanola's only department store when she was in her 20s. Isn't she beautiful? She just turned 88. She still smiles the way she does in this picture, not broadly, but sweetly, her gaze now perpetually a bit unfocused, as she can't see very well now.
Looking at these photos, it's easy to see where my family get particular features. Both my father and my uncle, for instance, do not smile when they are photographed. Rather, they stare, much like Popo is doing in this photo. I can see how my aunts look like Grandma (and perhaps how I do, too, a little bit?).
It's a nice feeling, feeling connected to your past, to your predecessors' pasts, through a particular physical quality like a smile or a gaze. It gives me a sense of continuity, and through that, purpose.
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