... a look into the past
When I was growing up, in my early teens and young adult life I always wondered why my parents and relatives had so many pictures. The family portraits were hung on the walls in every room and on the dressers, tables and shelves there were many more. These were pictures of weddings and babies and relatives that had long passed away. I was told that you never throw pictures away; they are memories to keep always.
Well that was then and now is now and let me show you what I have been doing. In my home in Maine I have collected a few pictures of my own.
On the wall by my back door I have created a “family wall”. Here I have a collage of my family, My Mother and Father and my two brothers along with photos of myself. In this grouping there are also pictures of my aunts, uncles and cousins, that have passed away. I have a picture of my oldest brother’s Bar Mitzvah and the 4 year old with the cute little dress is me. Above that you can see the same brother when he was doing some modeling for men’s clothing a few years after his 13th birthday.
On one side of the fireplace is a writing we got on our trip to China in 2001; and on another wall a picture of the scene in Israel that we picked up in Israel in 2000.
An early painting of the house done by the mother of an old friend takes up space on a wall by the window. The three herons were a birthday gift that was painted by yet another friend in Maine.
The wonderful winter scene was done by a dear friend that encouraged me to buy this house; and the Man of La Mancha came to me from this same friend many years ago.
The cat was Camelot that I got when she was a kitten. I had her for 17 years of shear joy and comfort both in Maine and Melrose.
There are posters and sayings that touch my heart and I hang them in a variety of space around the house. “Deserata” is scotch taped to the bathroom wall beside the place mat with pictures of local birds.
By my desk I have two hands reminding us of “What lies behind us”, and on one bedroom wall a verse by Helen Keller, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched, They must be felt with the heart.”
“Friends, no matter how far separated will grow in love and sympathy and nearness to each other.” This is by the front door when I get home. The poems published in “Bitter Sweet” many years ago were done by yet another friend from Maine.
In my bedroom there is a large frame with pictures of my Mother and Father at their wedding and at their 50th.wedding anniversary. When I was cleaning house one day I found their original wedding invitation and license written in Hebrew. I added the invitations and license and had it all framed. The wall beside the picture is a long verse called “Spectrum of Love”.
In between the many books on the shelves I have pictures of friends; and on the living room table there are two small albums with photos of my niece and nephew in various stages of their lives.
My front porch is not without welcoming reminders of my past. There are pictures and poems and some recognition that I survived the storm of 1978. I also have two claims that proved I rode a burro safely down the Grand Canyon.
Over my fire place is the latest painting I acquired. This was left for me in the will of a dear friend. I seem to be using the word “friend” often in this article; but there is no way to avoid it when I look around my walls and into the past.
The painting was one that I admired as it hung at my friend's home. I cried when it was bequeathed to me because Barbara was another one of my dearest friends, and when I look at the painting I can hear the music of the violins.
April 2, 2010