Blessed are the children of scrapbookers,
for they shall inherit the scrapbooks.
But I have four kids... so who'll inherit mine?
Who'll want them?
All of them?
Any of them?
I sometimes wonder, if anyone will want them at all...
Or will they simply get dumped in a box in the loft, left to sleep silently under a blanket of dust and only see the light of day in however many years when someone else lives in this house and finds a crumpled old cardboard box full of the remnants of some long ago, long forgotten family?
Will our voices talk to them I wonder?
Will they hear the happy laughter of children tinkling down through the years, sense the warmth and heart of a family long gone... will they pore over the pages, trying to work out the connections and perhaps wonder who all these people and animals are,
where they come from... how they fit?
Or will the kids ALL want the books...
will they fight over who takes what, and jealously grab and claim any that contain photos of them, or their children or their homes...
Will they suddenly become interested in my scraps of paper, and stickers and photographs, carefully and lovingly arranged over the years, and preserved in so many books, all bursting at the seams which in the everyday rush and bustle of ordinary life mean nothing to them at all....?
Are never looked at.
Sit on shelves, and desktops, and are piled on the floor and any available surface in a higgledy piggle jumble of unbalancedness.
Who'll want them I wonder?
Who'll want these books?