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The Family Album
I put together a family album,
Some are forgotten faces, some are not.
I wanted my children to remember the past,
To better appreciate all that they've got.
From my grandmother's youth,
Right through the last days of her life.
From rolling pumpkins down a hillside,
Then becoming my grandfather's wife.
My mother held me so close to her,
At the end of a long but playful day.
I know that I had grown tired and hateful,
Yet, "You'll be fine," was all she had to say.
Aunts with smiles on all of their faces,
With futures still looming ahead of them then.
I wonder if they would do it the same way,
If they could do it all over again?
Just a family album that might not mean a lot,
Displaying a dimpled infant that used to be me.
Pages not meant for a stranger's eye,
Shared only with people who mean the world to me.
Dianna Doles Petry
©2003
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