Pictures of pictures from the house on Center Moriches. My family and I said our farewells to the land my grandparents raised their family on. Grammy had us help go through her things and help her start packing-- she moves out the weekend after next. My brothers were coerced into trying on our grandfather's worn wide-shouldered coats and I her fancy old coats leftover from an era she fondly refers to as her "New York City days." I can't imagine how strange it must be to go through it all-- everything seems to have some sort of worth or importance. As a grandchild, I kept feeling like only in the past few years have I started paying attention to the things that really matter to me-- and to see the dismantling of a home that reads to me like a primary document of where my mother came from was startling. But I'm also excited to see how memory picks up where the departure from the "real thing" drops me off. These pictures show how different the houses of my grandparents were from one another, different components of the story of who my brothers and I are and where we come from.
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