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Pretty weird, but when the dust settles and my ashes are gone- these binders on these shelves remain as my memories, my life, condensed version.

Photos from 1953 , the year I was born, and up thru the past 55 years of my life. Friends I thought were forever friends, relationships I thought would go on till death, my parents, ( may they rest in peace) , funny things, scenery , getting married the first time, the precious memories of being a new mom, the memories of raising a child, going to nursing school, getting married to Mark, becoming a mother in law twice ! and a grandmother, places I have worked, places I have lived, places I have traveled to, my first car and every one after that, and family- precious family, some who are still alive and some who have passed on to a better place- to “their reward”. Oh sure there are many moments missing but…..This is my life ! Minimized into photo albums, but each photo is worth a thousand words, photos that bring me a smile, and some that make me go to places I prefer not to return to, but this is who I am, where I came from, my history.

There is a song that says that there is no luggage rack on a Hearse. So when I die, my spirit will remain in the hearts and minds of those I have left behind, and my pieces of memories- they will be left too, for those who chose to look.

Life- we have no control over when we are going to be born, we have no say in being born, we are just all of the sudden there. Some of us pass through life and our memories are only in our own mind, no documentation , no photos. To those that this fits, when age causes the mind to go, so does the life history.

Things happen in life that we can contribute to such as smoking, drinking, drugs, obesity, but there is so much we can not control.

What makes us who we are?  nursing graduation What makes us do the things we each do? What makes us act the way we do? I look at these photos, and they are a very small portion of the minutes of my life, but I do not see any sign that indicates what made me become me.

What made me call that one day from the dark room in the photo lab I was employed at, a mom trying to raise a 5 yrs old son, living with Mark and his daughter ( every other weekend) in a town home,  and ask the recruiter at the school of nursing 95 miles away, about how I would go about joining their program. Knowing to go through with this My son and I would have to move away, probably back into my moms house, quit my job and start over.

What made me change jobs? Why have we lived where we lived ? What makes us do the things we do? Are we destined to take these paths?

I do believe I was meant to be a nurse. Every single part of nursing I have done , I have loved. I love people, what makes me love people? For some people in my life seem like they would love to have  chopped me  off at the knees if given the chance, yet I truly love people. I can not say that I am as open as I once was a few heartaches ago, but I do feel that I continue to give of myself without ever expecting anything in return.

Everyone is different, and some folks may not have their life chronologically on 4 shelves, labeled, I do…and when the years turn to decades, and life turns to eternity, others will know who these people are, bits of my life and maybe get a sense for who I am.  Be careful with the moments of your life, for they come and go in the blink of an eye. Love to all, Cindy…. alias Mrs justa