I never met my grandma Marie, who died when she was only 50 years old. I’ve been told we look similar, and I’ve often felt compelled to learn more about her.
I wasn’t sure how to bring her up in conversation with my mom, who became motherless at 21. My mother rarely, if ever, spoke about my grandmother and other relatives while I was growing up, so I assumed that it was painful for her to do so.
I eventually inherited some of my grandma’s vintage jewelry from the 1940s, including a bracelet and her engagement ring. I also had an old family photo album. I decided to use my grandma’s bracelet as a talking point and sent my mom a text asking, “When did you see her wear it?” along with a photo of my grandmother wearing a bracelet from the album.
This broke the ice and helped launch many conversations about the keepsakes I had and the album’s photos. These items became a gateway to the past I was desperate to know more about and a special way for my mom to share details of our family history through phone calls and text messages.
Courtesy of Isobella Jade.
I learned about loved ones I never knew
In one photo, I can see my grandparents standing together — they look so young. Through talking to my mom, I learned that the photo was taken in Astoria, Queens, shortly after my grandfather, who was in the Air Force, returned after WWII. I can see all of his medals on his jacket. My mom explained that my grandparents were married soon after this photo was taken. To me, this photo represents my first-generation Italian American grandparents falling in love and my southern and northern Italian roots coming together, a key moment in our family’s history.
Another day, I opened a dainty, turquoise box and stared at my grandma’s engagement ring. I felt inspired. The name of a jewelry store was on the box, so I researched what I could about it online. I saw the building where it was likely purchased was still standing on Steinway Street, not too far from where census records showed my grandmother lived in Queens at the time. Seeing the building still standing made me wonder about the day my grandfather purchased the ring and how happy he must have felt about their future.
Courtesy of Isobella Jade.
Photos gave clues to their personalities
My grandparents relocated to New Hampshire with their three children in the 1950s. Photos show my grandma never changed her city style despite living in a much smaller town. I admire that she wanted to always be herself.
I sent my mom text messages with more photos from the album, and I learned more about the family’s resilience during this period. It wasn’t easy in New Hampshire at first, my mom explained, not having the same foods and ingredients in the grocery store, not having a familiar pediatrician nearby, zero relatives nearby, and none of the things the family had been accustomed to in a bigger city; it was a big adjustment.
For me, it was nice to learn that my grandparents had worked to overcome these struggles and know that my family has that determination built into our core.
I feel closer to my roots
The photos I’ve looked at with my mother have sparked discussions that help me feel connected to my ancestors. I learned that my grandma always wore dresses and lipstick (like me), she loved cooking Italian meals and at the same time she let the dishes soak so she could put family first, and that she was cheerful and could strike up a conversation with anyone. Talking about these facets of her personality made me feel closer to her, even though we never met.
Courtesy of Isobella Jade.
More discussions led me to learn that my grandfather always wore buttoned-up shirts and slacks or a full suit every day. And I also discovered he had a respected woodworking career after he retired from the service.
This has brought my mom and me closer, too
Over the years, my mom has enjoyed the conversations we’ve had while reflecting and going back in time through photos and keepsakes. I think it has been healing for both of us to reminisce about these things, and it has given us a new way to connect.
Now, when I look at the photo of my grandparents, I don’t just see them holding hands before they got married, I think about the moment, the place, the where and when, and how that photo leads to my mom and me — and now my kids. I’ve learned that the details in a photo or memories around a keepsake are special stories that can be cherished and carried on, and I can’t wait to pass these stories on to the next generation one day.
