Solving a Missing Photo Mystery | More About My Grandpa

     First of all, I want to express my gratitude toward those of you who read my last post and shared such kind and encouraging words. I'm graciously overwhelmed by the response, and I can't tell you all how much it means to me. Each of your compliments brings me great honor, most times I can't believe they are being said about me. To say I have great friends, family, and readers is an understatement. Without those things, I believe I would find it rather difficult to write at all, even if it is a much-needed mode of therapy. I'm really grateful for your support. 

    Although I understood the direction I was meant to continue writing in, I wasn't specifically sure where to start. There is so much to cover. So many people, so many memories. Of course, I gravitated toward the idea of writing more about my grandpa, but how could I possibly fit him into one article? It simply can't be done, so I was left once again wondering where to start. Today, I got my answer. Another seemingly divine encounter with impeccable timing. 

    I've been documenting my life and travels for as long as I can remember. I've always been the friend that takes all the pictures. I call myself a "memory hoarder". It began with disposable film cameras, then a digital camera, and eventually my first iPhone. Sometimes when I wanted to capture a moment important to me, I'd ask someone to take a photo of me. I've kept as many photos as possible from throughout my life, although I was always somewhat bothered by a group of photos and videos that I had lost track of. I had taken these between the ages of 10 to 14 on my first couple of iPhones. Last I could remember, they were uploaded onto my cute yellow laptop...that I haven't seen in years. I thought about the photos fairly often and hoped they didn't get thrown out with the computer, but it wasn't looking good. Over the years I had found a couple drives, looked through the photos, no luck. I had just about given up.

    Today, my dad came over to visit me. My chronic illness has been giving me trouble, and he knows his presence is some of the best medicine. While here, he was rummaging through a drawer looking for batteries, when he pulled out a dusty CD case with two discs inside. "Jen iPhone Pics 2014" they read in black marker. I was stunned. That drawer had been blocked for some time, so I hadn't looked there for the photos. I also don't recall them being put onto discs, something my dad must've thoughtfully done before laying my old computer to rest. "I should've known you wouldn't have just chucked the computer without saving my pictures." I said to him. "Of course not." he smiled and handed me the case, along with the disc reader to use with my current laptop. 

    I had a loose idea of what some of the photos could be. Snapshots of weekends at Goose Creek, our trip to Florida, my dad and I's adventures. A while back, my dad had asked me if I still had those pictures of my grandpa and I hauling hay on the farm when I was a kid. Unfortunately, those were among the missing photos. I prayed there would be a way to recover them, as they were all the more precious now. When I popped the first disc in, I knew what I hoped I would find. The first disc I put in was actually the second disc chronologically; all of the photos being taken in 2014. I flipped through them all, happy about my finds, but not entirely satisfied. I ejected the disc and switched it out for disc one, those photos being taken in 2013. 

    I flipped through only a handful of photos before I reached what I had been searching for. The photo was even better than I remembered, showing both my grandpa and I in our tractors, side by side. It was a great wave of emotion, a true feeling of joy. I immediately sent it to my dad, who was also overjoyed. I knew then what I would write about today. 

My grandfather (Darrell Plummer) and I (Jennie Moore) hauling hay on our farm in Knob Lick, Missouri - taken summer of 2013.

    Hauling hay with my grandpa, who I always called "Papa", is among my most favorite memories. Any memory I have of us spending time together on the farm lay especially close to my heart. I was blessed with countless summer days where I tagged along with Papa to check the cattle and visit his parents who lived in the farmhouse at the time. I think even then I knew how special those moments were. He trusted me with big tasks early; he always believed in me more than I believed in myself. Maybe eleven is a bit young to be operating agricultural equipment, but he never put me in over my head. We did this many times over the years, always without incident. We worked well together, and he always had a way of knowing what I was capable of. 

   He taught me how to drive slowly and carefully, keeping an eye out for ruts in the field. There were even times where he let me sit on his lap and drive his truck in the field. I don't know what I did to deserve the honors he gave me, but I'm forever grateful he allowed me to have those experiences. 

    Today, my dad and step-mother live in the farmhouse, taking over about two years ago. That has been one of the biggest blessings in my life, without question. Often I roam the fields, reminiscing on my memories with my since passed family members. I retrace their steps, taking in the view that they too once sought refuge in. The farm holds pieces of my loved ones, as if a portion of their energy had come to stay after they left their earthly form, creating a place I could always go to feel that closeness I yearn for. Now, I walk to find my grandfather. Perhaps it is really he that finds me. Either way, I usually end my walk feeling better. 

 

    I'm really grateful we recovered the missing photos, especially the one of my Papa and I. If I could only save one photo from the bunch, it would be this one. It will likely take me tens of articles to fully tell my grandfather's story, and how much he and our relationship means to me. Now that I cannot give the love in my heart directly to him, I'm sure I will write about him for the rest of my life. Thank you for lending an ear, it means the world to me. Until next time, friends.