Faded Photographs

First of the year organizing brings up the same question each time.  How to separate the precious from the merely familiar? What to let go of? What to keep?

I’m the guardian of my parents’ memories.  Boxes of them.  Stacks of them. So many photo albums my camera couldn’t fit them into one picture to show you.

How to know which I’ll regret parting with?  What’ll be valuable to someone in the future? Do I keep all of this and leave it for my daughter to decide?  Do I call on the gods of technology and ask if there’s an affordable answer?

Sticky notes mark my feeble attempt to identify by decade

I’ve moved them around for years and don’t know if anyone else will want them someday. There’s the option to preserve them digitally, but there are so many of them. My scanner isn’t great and each time I start to scan one, I stop and remember stories. Obviously I’m not suited for this job, and I know I’m not alone. I’ve met other people whose garages belong half to them and half to the past.

During my own broadcast career I’ve let go of boxes of tapes, lots of shows and commercials, moving some to digital formats. That wasn’t hard to do, but this isn’t really my stuff, so here I am starting another year, still in possession of all my parents’ memories.
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Thank you, Tony, for the music

Tony R. Clef, guitar

“When I’m sixty four”