Visiting my parents always puts the tug on the family ties.
As they get older, their connection to relatives they remember from their youth become a lifeline and an anchor to who they were, who they are, and where they come from.
These are people I either never knew because they were long gone by the time I made an appearance on the scene, or some that I only knew while I was a small child.
It’s funny the perspective we gain with aging.
Who I only thought of as “those old people” I now realize were likely no older than I am now!
I visited these family photographs that hang on the wall in my dad’s house while in Arizona. The photo at the top of this post is my Grandmother, my dad’s mother as a baby.
Seeing these photos at my dad's, makes ME remember, and long for the time my Grannie called me “Bonnie Belle” and I would in turn call her “Grannie Belle” and we would laugh and love. I felt safe with her. Like no matter what was going on in my life, she would love me regardless, just as I am.