I know you have one of those, a shoebox full of old photos. I have several. So does my mom. I usually haul out one of the boxes, forgetting what's in there, wanting to purge. Instead, my face lights up, I sit cross-legged on the floor and I gently pull picture after picture out of the box. Oh, the memories contained in that little box, the pictures of people I love, bringing a tear from the memories of a time long ago.
I go through each one. With some, I remember the occasion; with others, I don't remember the day, just the stories I've heard about it. Mixed in with the photos are mementos - napkins or matches from a friend's wedding, birth announcements, newspaper clippings, reminders of special days.
I sigh and smile.
The pictures go back in the box; the box goes back on the shelf with a lingering touch, hoping to hold on to the memories a little longer.