The archaeology of family stories

Found myself on the living room floor at 7 AM this morning, surrounded by three generations of family photos and documents.

The archaeology of family stories

What started as “just organizing a few things” turned into a full archaeological dig through boxes Margaret helped me properly preserve last month.

There’s something both overwhelming and oddly peaceful about sitting with all these pieces of family history spread out around me. Every photo tells a story, but some of the stories don’t quite line up with what I thought I knew. Found a picture of Abuela Rosa at what looks like a community festival in 1987 – she’s wearing this gorgeous embroidered dress I’ve never seen before, standing next to people I don’t recognize.

The aftermath of a productive morning

Three hours later and I’ve got everything sorted into Margaret’s archival system, but my brain is still spinning with questions. Jake’s been quietly bringing me coffee refills and pretending he’s not taking pictures of me being completely absorbed in this project. He thinks I don’t notice, but I caught him researching genealogy software last week.

Sometimes I think the real work isn’t just preserving these stories – it’s figuring out which ones need deeper investigation. Good thing I have Margaret’s weekly tea sessions to help me sort through the mysteries.