GRANDPARENTS. The makers and givers of some of our fondest memories, right? I still remember helping my Nanny make homemade chicken cutlets in the small kitchen of their Boston home. The same home with the steep backyard and the broken wagon we’d ride down the slope, over and over until the bent wheels threw us off, nearly breaking us. Talk about our ride or die, literally.

I love watching my parents be the Nanny Lou and Pops of our family. All of the love (chocolate sprinkled donuts for breakfast) and fun (golf cart shenanigans with Pops and painting with Nanny Lou) and learning (math lessons using money and bike riding sans training wheels) between the good morning hugs and good night kisses is even more significant when it's with your grandparents. The bond between the generations is organic and heavy with nostalgia. In a single glance, I can envision my parents as younger versions of themselves and see glimpses of what our life was probably like growing up. 

I say probably, because back then, cameras weren’t an extension of everyone’s arms, and photos had to be developed. Besides a few photos, the images of my childhood look a lot like perms and ruffled dresses sitting perfectly still and stoic in front of a bland backdrop. Those photos say so little about my story.

Feelings like this remind me why I’m drawn to documenting, because I know these days of generations together at play are the 'good ol' days.'