Every so often I thumb through one of my boxes of old photographs. This time I kept thumbing until I found something suitable for a November blog post, so I suppose my choice isn’t really random at all.
I’d forgotten this particular visit and holiday, though once I looked at the pictures it began to come back to me. I’m not sure I would have remembered the exact year, except that my father thoughtfully labeled the envelope “’88 Thanksgiving Trip to KC.” Moreover, attached to the envelope is a receipt from the photo print shop dated 11-27-88.
When I opened the envelope, I was delighted to see these snapshots and to relive that Thanksgiving Day twenty-nine years ago.
In the picture of me with my kids, the one with my daughter sitting on my lap, my three-and-a-half-year-old daughter is wearing her favorite black knit skirt and white sweatshirt top—or at least this was her favorite outfit until her preschool teacher told her she couldn’t hang upside down on the monkey bars while wearing a skirt. Then she never wanted to wear it again. I tried to force the issue, but she would have none of it. Thankfully, her teacher’s caution didn’t come for a few more months.
In another picture from that Thanksgiving Day, taken as we were getting ready to leave for my in-laws’ house, my daughter has donned a hand-me-down coat from her older cousin. I loved this plaid coat, though not quite as much as the little blue coat that was a hand-me-down from my childhood. But daughter had outgrown the little blue coat.
My son was a few months short of seven in November 1988 and losing his front teeth. It would only be another year before he went into braces to fix a gap between his new incisors. He then had metal in his mouth for six years until he was fourteen—poor kid.
My dad took these pictures of my children and me on Thanksgiving morning shortly before we all drove to my in-laws for a big family dinner. I had forgotten that my parents and my family had this holiday meal at my in-laws in Marshall, Missouri, until I saw these photos. But to jog my memory, there’s a picture of the Missouri River taken on our drive to Marshall (I remember the drive on that cold, gray day), and another picture of my kids in their holiday finery in my in-laws’ dining room.
Thanksgiving Day 1988 wasn’t one of my more memorable holiday celebrations, but it was nice to revisit it as I thumbed through these snapshots. Many of the pictures were blurry, as happened often in the days before digital photography. But then, a blurry picture is better than nothing at refreshing a blurry memory.
When has a photograph reminded you of something you’d forgotten?