Together . . . Forever

As long as I've been trying to unravel the mystery of my family tree, I've wondered what stories my grandparents  would have told me about the depression, their experiences with racism in the South, their own families, or  their love for each other.  I knew neither ~ my grandmother died too young at the age of 46 in 1951 and my grandfather died a few years later.  They left their children to forge their own legacies.  My mother has told me that I am the image of my grandmother.  That means so much.  My only wish is that all of her grand and great grandchildren could have been held and embraced by her ~ just once.

Photos courtesy of Carl Pegue, Sr. ~ Blytheville, Arkansas

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