If you have read this blog for any length of time you many have heard me talk about my childhood only on rare occasions. This is because it wasn’t terribly wonderful. I don’t like to go on about it for numerous reasons, not the least of which is I don’t want to appear a whiner. Cause I’m not. I believe we were each born into the family we were destined for, whether good or bad. That’s not to say I wouldn’t have liked to have had different circumstances growing up, mind you! But I’m a firm believer of the saying, “That which doesn’t destroy you only makes you stronger.” I believe I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I didn’t come from where I came from…pain and all. One of my favorite quotes…
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
Lebanese artist & poet in US (1883 – 1931)
Rose Kennedy said, “It has been said that time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but it is never gone.” I tend to agree with this statement and here’s why.
I have no photos of my childhood. None. Oh, they exist. But I don’t possess them.
The other day I was taking photos of some Zinnias and was thinking about my childhood. I thought of a great way to make a layout and journal about the past, therefore circumventing the need for those photos, for I have no idea when, if ever, I will possess them. After some excitement and planning, then later execution, I came up with this layout.
When I was a little girl I remember Zinnias growing in the garden that my parents planted. I remember the leaves feeling rough and the stems feeling prickly. I remember photos of my brother and I in the Zinnia patch. I have bleach blonde hair and I am holding some mail. I had gotten some type of letter in the mail. My brother was upset he didn’t get any and was crying so my mother gave him some “junk mail” to make him stop crying. A plane flew over, we heard it and looked up. My mother took several photos of us looking up into the sky at the plane while standing in the Zinnia patch.
paper Marvelous JMDesigns
postage stamp, French Summer Lynn Grieveson
green flower nanyang Lynn Grieveson
Lil Bit Tags Katie Pertiet
Messy Stamped Alpha No3 Katie Pertiet
journal box DD Ad Challenge Freebie 8-30-09 Katie Pertiet
After I did the layout I loved it. I loved how it looked. I loved the techniques I used. The colors. Even the photo of me. And I rarely like photos of me. Hey, who does? The problem? I hated the memory. Maybe not the memory in and of itself but remembering that time in my life. I thought doing some layouts of myself for my kids so they could read about my childhood would be a good idea. It probably is. But I’m not so sure I’m able to “pick the scabs” enough to do it. At least not enough to do a bunch of layouts anyway. I’ve already done my therapy. I’m not sure reopening old wounds for the sake of this potential project that I thought was such a good idea is worth it. They have healed pretty well but messing with them could be a bad thing. Know what I mean?
Am I the only one with this issue? When you see all these magazine articles and online classes about scrapping about your past and your ancestors and the like do you find it easy or hard? Of all the scrapbookers there are in the world, I cannot be the only one who struggles with this, can I? (Please don’t misunderstand me. If you don’t understand where I am coming from or had a wonderful childhood then I’m soooooo happy for you!)