What Was on the Floor - Karen Oliver

Scrap books are piled up on the floor of my bedroom. All sizes, which makes the structure I am building need careful planning. Putting scrapbooks in my bedroom is an impulse I am re-thinking. My practical side said that it would be nice to keep those memories close at hand and, at first, it felt right to have them near me in such an intimate space. Albums. Memories. People say they would take “the albums” in a fire. I rarely look at my old photos and the memories they bring back aren’t always so pleasant. Remember that purple dress and that moving talk with little Chelsea about her mother passing out on the floor? Look at how young we were then, barreling toward the future with no regard for what was coming. Wasn’t the water beautiful on that camping trip? Awww, there we are together, posed for our Christmas photo. Too bad he isn’t with her anymore.