Memories are shadowy things. They become less clear as years pile up between the occurrence and the memory. They become impressions of a time. A time long lost .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our children grow and move on. It's good that they do that, but we feel sad. Sad, that the children we once knew so well, are gone. They exist only in memory, only for the few that knew them well, long ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We're remembered for a very short time. Two generations, if we're lucky. After that we're simply photographs in a scrapbook. We pass bits of ourselves to our children and they do the same. It's alright. It's the way it's supposed to be.

Thanks to Eric Hill in California for passing this found, Kodacolor 620  film along to me. It came from a Kodak Box that he bought in a thrift store.