Take The Time

Recently I received a package of photos and mementoes from my Uncle Joe Ebertz. In his kindness, he sent the package to me in case the enclosed items might be of value towards researching the Rice family history.  The intention was confirmed by the contents which consisted of several photo albums, some letters, and numerous loose pictures, all once owned by our grandfather Leslie Rice and later preserved with care by our Aunt Millie Ebertz. 

However, much to my disappointment, nothing within the package was dated, or identified. And even though everything was preserved with care, all is pretty much unusable, except maybe for general historical reasons.  Very little contributes to remembering our Rice family members of the past.

The pictures mounted by Granddad Rice are all to naught. He didn’t take the time to label, date, or name them.  And yet, these must have been important to him. And they certainly would have helped us to better describe and remember our Grandfather.

I won’t destroy these.  Everything will be passed on. Until, someday, someone will ask the question “why?”

Our memories are neither permanent, nor decipherable to others unless put on paper or recorded on some device. What we remember, what we have experienced, that which was a part of our lives, both important and trifle will be long gone if it is not preserved for the future.

Just the other day, while browsing through the internet in search of long lost relatives, I ran across this silly little poem.  Silly in the sense that it doesn’t have poetic literary recognition, and probably never will. But it sends a message, to you and me.

Strangers in the Box 

By Pamela A. Harazim

Come, look with me inside this drawer, 

In this box I've often seen, 

At the pictures, black and white, 

Faces proud, still, serene. 

I wish I knew the people, 

These strangers in the box, 

Their names and all their memories 

Are lost among my socks. 

I wonder what their lives were like.

How did they spend their days? 

What about their special times? 

I'll never know their ways. 

If only someone had taken time 

To tell who, what, where, when, 

These faces of my heritage 

Would come to life again. 

Could this become the fate

Of the pictures we take today? 

The faces and the memories 

Someday to be tossed away? 

Make time to save your pictures, 

Seize the opportunity when it knocks, 

Or someday you and yours could be

The strangers in the box.

A sad truth is reflected by this poem. Granddad Leslie Rice’s pictures have now become  “strangers in the box”.

Take the time… record what we remember.  It’s easy. Use a video camera or a cell phone and record things you remember from times past.  Going to school, a school teacher, a childhood friend, your home and house, going swimming, graduation, your  first job, your mom, your dad….. the possibilities are endless.  The value is beyond measurement.

Source:
The poem is copywrited by © 1997 by Pamela A. Harazim.