Treasure Between the Lines
He fought with the pages, the children wiggling with excitement, causing the pages to fast forward. Spending time reading to his grandchildren was an adventure. They giggled with each page and of course the questions.
“What a silly boy, grandpa.”
“I know, I was that silly boy.”
“Yup, this story was written about grandpa, when he wasn’t much bigger than you.”
“Who wrote about you grandpa,”
“Your great grandma.”
“Wow, is the story real?”
“Yes, it is.”
“She must have been really funny.”
“Yes, she was.”
I love snuggling up with a soft blanket and a good book. Even better is the joy of reading to a child, the smooth pages, silly pictures, the giggles, their head against your cheek, and the smiles on their faces.
I have two books I treasure, my grandfather’s architect book and my great grandmother’s journal. He mapped out plans in his book. She wrote about life in that journal. I love touching objects they wrote in. I can see their words, their thoughts.
Our stories are what I will leave behind.
I have written our stories on paper. These stories, my writings will let them know; we struggled, cried, laughed, endured, triumphed, loved, believed, and dreamed.
My dream is to hold them in hardback to pass them on to the next generation, a tangible portrait of who we were. Maybe they will find a piece of themselves in the stories.
Written by: Collette Cottingham