I barely remember my Papa but I loved my Grandma who lived until I was almost six. They lived above the store, in their retirement (not their business), which forms part of the backdrop of this photo scanned from a Kodachrome slide my father took several months before I was born. The question mark is for my wonders about them, their wonders about me before I was born, and what to say when I know so few facts and remember being loved.
This is beautiful. What a lovely photo. I understand this all too well. By the time I was born, I only had one living grandparent. This page is charming and wonderous.
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