About Scrapbooking
I grew up watching mom do some serious scrapbooking in the late 80’s to early 90’s. The entire dining room table would be covered in supplies; special scissors that cut squiggly lines, devices that round the corner of paper, glue guns, markers, ribbon and tape… all of it was to mindfully display photos of recent family memories.
I was a tween when my grandfather Gordon died, and it made me think about his life, and what he had left behind. I regretted not visiting him more, but also relished the few memories I had; sitting on his lap as he showed me his studies on history and its figures, perusing his various fine art paintings and whimsical inventions. I began building a family tree with my uncle in Luleå, Sweden, and after I had my own kids, I began to think about the physical remnants of Gordon’s life. I was grateful to have rescued the double-decker bicycle he had created so that I could restore it. But all the rest were little more than memory. It made me think what would I have wanted, if anything were possible?
The answer came quickly and clearly: I would have wanted his scrapbooks. (As far as I know, Gordon was never into scrapbooking.) Scrapbooks has a unique way of forcing creativity while also serving as solid documentation of memorable events. You can’t scrapbook without leaving something of yourself on the page in the process. And that’s what I wanted; more of Gordon. I wanted to know who really was this man? How did he live? What did he enjoy? What were HIS favorite memories?
And so that’s why I started scrapbooking again in early 2025… so that I could begin to build an archive of things that I want to remember, and I try to pour a lot of myself into them… I talk about my feelings, what I appreciated and what was challenging. I do this because this is what I wish I had from my grandfather. Maybe my kids or grandkids will appreciate it someday. But I’m making sure that—when the time comes—it’s an option for them to get ahold of my scrapbooks and get to know me from another angle once I’m gone.
