My son took a picture of this wall a couple weeks ago. Since that time, two more have been added. Now, on that wall, there are 16 pictures.
I’ve always been like this—have always liked pictures hanging up of family and friends. I add to my walls of memories all the time.
On the wall facing my writing table, I have 18 “frames.” I can’t say picture frames, because some of the things hanging on that wall are writing awards or service awards or posters of events I want to remember. Of course, there are pictures there too.
Outside of the photo I’m sharing here, I got two other walls full of pictures of family and friends.
I’ve probably got more pictures of my kids than anybody else. I just counted how many pictures of my twin brother I have hanging up. I’ve got six.
For a long time, I didn’t feel like I had enough photos of my father on my walls. I’ve corrected that over the past year or so.
Sometimes I wonder when I die who will get my walls of memories. Will anybody even want all those picture frames?
They’re included in my will. I’m not telling who is going to get stuck with them.
(Photo taken by my son)