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| Grandma Rupert. She died when I was 7 |
What is the legacy that I will preserve for the generations, bottled up for discovery one day by the curious time travelers? What will we wash away with the spin cycle of time, chalked up to what was yesterday?
We sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by thousands of photos. My sister and I were overwhelmed by these collected images from the generations of our family. The photos were from both sides of the family tree, with many protruding branches. It was disorganized, almost hopelessly so. The photo locations, age, and bloodlines were all mixed together like a random time machine.
Stories are used to spur conversation. But in a deeper way, they are tools to help us never forget, to perpetuate the memory. In ancient times, legends were passed on through crude drawings on walls. Stories were told around the fire and values passed from generation to generation through carefully scripted traditions.
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| The last photo of the Rupert Ranch, blown down to California by the drought |
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Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert
Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert
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