When we first moved into our present home eleven years ago, I had a vision of what I wanted along the wall of the stairwell. I wanted a sepia toned collection of family photos, old and new.
The black and white photos and the brown sepia tones would be the unifying factor between the Now and Then look.
It all started with a photo of my dad. A self-portrait he had taken sitting perfectly still playing with a long exposure. He was working on what was then known as the Isle of Pines (Isla de Pino) and had grown a beard and wanted to document this momentous occasion for my mom to see.
I always loved the photo of Papi. He looked so young and so "Indiana Jonesy." So, I had it framed years before and it hung in my parents' home for years. My mom gave it to me as a gift when I moved into this house and I still treasure it.
Also, I found a poster of an old photo of my sisters and me on the beach in Varadero Beach in Cuba, circa 1958. I had that blown up back in the early 70's and had it mounted on a plaque and so I get to enjoy it every single day.
So, I had my idea and I added to it photos of family and some vinyl lettering with the year we got married. And I added a scripture that I felt added to the feel. I had a custom stencil made and painted it directly on the wall.
From the book of Job 5:25, it says in Spanish:
“Sabras que tu descendencia es mucha, y tu prole como la hierba de la tierra.”
In English:
“You will know also that your descendants will be many, and your offspring as the grass of the Earth.”
I truly love the way the wall came together and expresses the "old timey" feel I wanted. When I come down the stairs I remember my dad, who passed away 13 years ago. He was pretty brilliant and had a delicious sense of humor. I love the photo of him and picture the moment of him, so many years ago, doing his painstaking self-portrait.
This past New Year's Eve, we had a party and there were fake mustaches involved, but that's not important right now.
You know how you see something every single day so that it gets to a point that you don't really "see" it? Yes. That's me. All the time.
Imagine my surprise when I came down the stairs and noticed this:
I laughed out loud and thought, "Papi would have loved this."
Made my day.
Love it. We couldn’t bring any photos from Cuba. I have a cousin that visited from Cuba a few years ago mad he gave me some… One in particular of my beloved grandmother (Mama) taken in the late 1920s.Love your blog!
Completely understand. My father is 88 and my mother is 87. My dad’s demential is slowly but surely progressing. He knows who we are but forgets things like the death of his parents (I would also supress that memory). My sister and I have our hands full with my parents but as good Cuban kids, we welcome the challenge. Sometimes its overwhelming, sometimes we want to cry because we want our “old” life back. But we are fortunate to have both parents alive and relish every moment. Our American friends think my sister and I are angels..they don’t understand that this is our way of life. There is NO other option. My parents will be well taken care of until their last breath and we will have no regrets.
We take care of our parenth
You’ve given me a great idea! Lovely post Marta. As usual…