My grandma Peg opened her wire bound notebook circa 1967 revealing a whole history of her life. The pages were tattered, stained and the same handwriting she has today covered every page from recipes during a stint as a chef, to notes on quantities and guest information after she married my grandpa and started hosting parties.
I started looking around her house. It is the same house my father grew up in, and the amount of memories from under that roof must be incredible. Its strange to think that at some point my parents too were 30. Heck my grandma was in her forties when she married my grandpa. It seems like a lifetime ago and yet forties are right around a few corners from me. Guess its just one more reminder to live in the moment. Or write things down like her so we don't forget.
My parent's wedding photo. My Grandpa, Merrill.
And look at the most adorable Gma Peg zipping around on a three-wheeler.
Cheers to making memories that last.
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