uncovering pieces of the past

Last night, I returned home from my new house with arms covered in drips of paint after another long day working in the kitchen. But beyond the physical exhaustion of cleaning and sanding and painting, I was beyond thrilled.

Yesterday afternoon, I found a single Kodak slide buried in a long-forgotten drawer. Scuffed up with a crack down the middle, I crossed my fingers and said a prayer that it would be salvageable. I held it up to the light and saw a beautiful shot of a young family, posed with their three children, the littlest boy on two legs taking some of his first steps. Though I’m not sure where or when the photograph was taken (mid-1970’s, somewhere in Brooklyn?), I am fairly certain this is my first glimpse of the family who grew up in my house.

And yes, that is the quiet sound of my heart melting.