I am SO psyched about finding all these pictures, I had never ever ever seen before, of grandparents and great grandparents both from mother's and father's side.
Here is my father's father Themistoklis, who died way too young in 1945 of tuberculosis, as his brother Aristides and their mother and my great grandmother Eleni two years prior.
And like so many other people at that time. Dying of old age at that time was a luxury.
Especially my father's side is plagued in tragedy and death.
But I am trying to see some light and trying to guess their thoughts and hopes and see their life through them from these pictures, as short as it was.
There was still some hope in their eyes. They still fell in love and had kids and made plans and ... *poof* All gone.
But I feel I am bringing back the dead digging through pictures.
I am trying to remember people I have never met.
It feels a bit like magic. And very grounding and humbling.
Makes me get my priorities straight.
Not that my priorities were misplaced when it comes to my relationships.
But when it comes to things that upset me.
I feel like: Who gives a fuck? We will all die anyway.
Have a lovely day ❤️😊😍
I estimate this picture is taken sometime in the 20s or 30s? Not really sure :/
But I descratched and colored it and it came to life 😍😊