I am very sentimental especially when it comes to family. So was my dad. He and I were, and I still am, kind of the keepers of the family “stuff”. You know what I’m talking about~~photos, letters, postcards, baby clothing, school papers and of course books.
And we had a lot of books in the house when I was growing up. My mom was a huge mystery reader and loved Agatha Christie. My dad was more of a non-fiction fan, reading everything related to the Civil War with a few Louis L’Amour westerns thrown in to the mix.
As a kid I always got a huge kick out of the fact that we still had some of my dad’s old school books on our shelves. My pop was born in 1914 and was the second youngest of 6 kids so these books were passed down through several members of his family and are almost 100 years old.
I thought it was hysterical that my dad and his sisters had not only written in these books, but drawn pictures and made comments in the margins, basically all the things that I was told NOT to do to books. Who knew that kids back in the early 1900’s were just like kids in the 1960’s? That was a revelation to me!
So of course being the sentimental pack rat that I am, I still have a couple of these books on my shelves today. I still get a kick out of the fact that my dear old Dad used these books in school over 80 years ago…even if it was only for practicing his art skills!