Wall of Fame

I love family photos. Even more than that though, I love what I call the “Wall of Fame”. Many homes have them; maybe yours does, too.

The current display in our hallway.

When I was young, I loved to go visiting at my aunt’s home. She had a long hallway that was dedicated to dozens of framed family photos which depicted our family, and it’s various members, over the years. Anytime I found myself at her house, I always made sure that I walked the hall and viewed each and every picture. Even though I had looked upon those old photos hundreds of times before, I looked at them with fresh eyes…my other aunt’s “cat eye” glasses, my cousin’s goofy grin, my grandma’s wedding picture…

Those pictures brought me so much joy and helped connect me to another time in our family’s past. I wasn’t even born yet when some of the pictures were captured, which made them even more special to me.

Then one year, when I was a teenager, my aunt and uncle remodeled their home. Gone were the dark carpets, the comfy, rust-colored sofa, and the wall of fame. In their place was cream-colored carpeting, a sofa so light in color that I was scared to sit on it and tacky cream, silvery blue and pink abstract prints.

I remember being so sad when I discovered that the photos were gone. Why? I wondered. Why would they change everything when there was nothing wrong with the way is was in the first place?

As the rest of my family “oohed and awed” at the fancy new décor, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. How could they possible like this better?

Why the change? The carpet wasn’t frayed. The sofa was not stained and was still very comfortable; it was clean and in very good condition. The family photos were so much more interesting to look at than those tacky prints.

My mind flashed back in time to when my aunt watched me after school. I spent many afternoons sitting on that rust-colored sofa sipping chocolate milk as I watched cartoons. Now, my uncle could be heard chastising my Grandpa for walking through that same room with a piece of chocolate candy *in his mouth*. Where once young children frolicked and played carefree, an adult was no longer trusted to suck on a piece of candy.

When did good enough stop being enough?

In honor of that lost hall of fame, I have established my own in several of the homes we have lived in over the years.

Me with Krystal, Chris and Heather in 1994.

Chris’ 1st Birthday eating his first ever ice cream cone.

Me age 3 or 4

I have had thoughts of upgrading and going high tech by buying a digital photo frame that I could place in the living room. This would allow me to display more pictures. Maybe someday, but for now, good enough is enough.

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