Family portraits

These pictures are for Julie at Anglers Rest, who has inspired us to dig out the photos from the bottom of the trunk. Hope you enjoy these beautiful characters.

These photographs were prepared by my Dad who discovered them in a trunk of photos bequeathed to us when an elderly relative died.

Julie is hosting the February Photo Collage Festival. #fpcf13

Photography by Lesley Beeton.

A Life told in Hair! (and hats)

I'm linking up with SaveEveryStep. This is a nostalgia Linky of family stories. This week, the stories are all about our changing attitudes to (and experiments on) our hair. 

One of the first things Mom worried about after her cancer diagnosis, was her hair. We made an appointment with a hairdresser, who was in remission from breast cancer. She cut Mom's hair short and helped her choose a wig style. Then, when Mom's hair fell out from the chemotherapy, we already had a plan to deal with it. These photo's show Mom's changing hair over her life-time, the way we remember her. 

I have included photo's of Mom in hats, too, as she loved her hat collection, almost as much as her hair.

History in a box

Last year saw not just the death of my Mom, but also the sudden death of an Uncle and the unexpected demise of an old family friend. She was in her eighties, and had led a rather secretive life. She never married and apparently lived off the proceeds of a life insurance policy ceded to her by my great Grandfather, or so the story goes.

She was born in Canada to a single mother. Her birth certificate is missing, presumed hidden forever. The man the family pointed to as her father was never heard of again. The rumours persist to this day that her real father was my great Grandfather.

I'm not sure. For one thing, if she knew she actually my Father's cousin, why didn't she say so? And for another thing, if she did benefit from that life insurance policy, then surely the direct descendants of my great Grandfather should have a claim against it, too.

Cosmos, July 2012, Lesley Beeton

Whatever the story, it has been debated at many family gatherings, and we are no further enlightened. She left me several boxes and an ancient trunk of photo's and diaries in her will. I was bemused to say the least. Some beneficiaries got money. I have a garage full of junk.

But of course, one man's junk is another man's treasure and I know that as custodian of these items, they should be protected. I just can't bring myself to go through it all, eighty years of history in a box.