My grandfather had two metal boxes full of old slides, the kind you had to put in a projector and click through one at a time. After he died, nobody really wanted to deal with them, so they sat in my mother’s closet for years.
Last winter my son helped me scan some of them. There were Christmas trees, cars we forgot we owned, my parents looking young, my uncle in uniform, and a lot of people standing in yards smiling like someone had just told them to hurry up and take the picture.
The sad part is we do not know all the names anymore. Some of those people are family, I know that much, but I waited too long to ask.
I placed this hex because I don’t want everything about us to end up unlabeled in a box. My family was here. They laughed, worked, served, messed up, tried again, and loved this country in their own way.