I just finished creating a family picture wall. In the center I placed an 8X10 of my husband and me. To the right are 5X7s of our four children and further to the right 4X6s of our grandchildren. To the left are 5X7s of our parents and then, 4X6s of our grandparents. Although all of the frames are not identical, they all have some gold on them. I painted directly on the wallpaper with gold paint to connect the frames with branching vines and leaves. I am very pleased with the result.
Sorting through the pictures in order to find usable ones the correct size was interesting. I did have to do some scanning and printing out to achieve the uniformity I wanted. I could not find wedding pictures of all of our grandparents, so, in some cases, I used individual pictures of the couple placed in the same frame.
As I ponder the wedding pictures, I see very different poses and facial expressions. My son and his wife are in profile, both smiling happily with their noses and foreheads touching. I have other pictures of them, but I like that one because in the touching of their foreheads, I see the synergy of two brilliant minds.
In my own wedding picture, my husband has picked me up and stands in a doorway, as though he is carrying me off. We are both laughing.
My husband’s parents are posed in front of the home that was just built for them. They are still living in that home together 72 years later. My own parents stand in front of the fireplace in my grandparents living room with their hands clasped together at their sides. My mother is beautiful and radiant. My father stands tall in his military attire, but only the slightest smile plays on his lips. They were married during World War II while he was home on a 3-day pass. The uncertainty of the future can be seen in his eyes and brow.
The most fascinating of the pictures for me is the one of my mother’s parents. I don’t know the date of their wedding, but I suppose it was in the range of 1910 to 1912. They are seated together on a bench, not really touching, but leaning towards each other. My grandmother’s dress is white with a high collar, long sleeves, and a cinched in waist. The bodice appears to have numerous vertical tucks. Her hat is very elaborate and covered with flowers, but she holds only a tiny sprig of flowers in her graceful hand. She is a very beautiful, slender woman with delicate features, but she is not smiling. Grandpa wears a three-piece suit with a tie and has no hint of a smile. I wonder at the thoughts and emotions they were experiencing that day. I have no idea if they were “in love” at that point.
My grandmother had an older sister who was married and had a child. When her sister became very ill and knew she was dying, she begged my grandmother to care for her little son. Grandma promised that she would. When the time came, however, Grandma was afraid to move into the home of her brother-in-law to care for the child. The man had a reputation for being a “womanizer,” and she was fearful that moving into his home would ruin her own reputation. People did care about such things 100 years ago. My grandfather married her, so that they could move into the home as a married couple, and she would not have to fear what might be said about her. Obviously, they must have been friends at that point, but the marriage came about when it did out of compassion and duty. I wonder as I look at their wedding picture, if that is what I see in their faces.
My grandfather turned out to be a prince. His care for his wife and the family they eventually had themselves was exceptional. He died at the age of 65, and Grandma died a year later. Just prior to her death, she commented that the doctor said she had had a heart attack, but she knew the truth. Her heart had broken a year earlier when she lost Grandpa.
Whatever I think I see in the wedding picture, somehow turned into a life-long love. I wish that amazing combination of compassion, commitment, and love could be caught in a bottle and sprinkled on all generations of our family yet to come.
