I look at her face and wonder. What were her hopes and dreams? Did life measure up to her expectations? What difficulties did she face? Oh, I know that she had to feed and clothe a passel of kids, most of them boys. I know that they lived in rather primitive conditions on the farm. But who was she? What did she think about in those moments of calm and contemplation. What was she thinking in that second picture as she neared the end of her life? I remember seeing her near the time of that picture. I was only about three or so, but just her age was impressive to me. She seemed so fragile, so delicate a bit like a flower that was past its bloom and would fall if you touched the petals.
I really must finish the Heirloom photo album I've started. Some of this history needs to be recorded.