I have been sorting through a lot of old family photos lately. I got them from my Aunt Marguerite’s apartment when we were cleaning it out. She died yesterday afternoon at the age of 84. It is sad to know that she is gone, but I am glad that she is out of pain. She was, as my husband says, “the keeper of the pictures.” I guess that is what I am too. I love to find out the story behind the faded images. This photo is my great grandparents, and great aunt and uncle. I love the look in my great grandmother’s eyes. There is a flicker of a smile in there even though it is not on her lips. I wonder what book my great grandfather was holding and about the flashy dress that my Aunt Hattie was wearing when everyone else is dressed in somber tones.
It sounds like the next few days will be filled with family, funeral, and food. In the south, there is always lots of food before and after a funeral. There will be a potluck lunch at the church, by the cemetery, and all of my relatives will be there. Maybe I will take some of the pictures with me and see if anyone can tell me the stories.

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