Say what you will about Facebook, but, you can't deny that it has changed the way that people relate to one another. In my experience, it has brought together friends and family from all across this country, and, sometimes, from even greater distances.
Facebook has connected me to kids I knew in grade school, to High School classmates, to family who I know well, and to family that I have barely met; Facebook is a forum for us to share memories and common experiences.
A while back, one of my cousins scanned and posted photos from his mother's old albums; there were photos of my grandparents, my parents, my sister and myself as young children, all of my cousins, aunts, uncles, and old family friends. It was a tremendous undertaking, and, in my opinion, a vastly rewarding one.
For one thing, we got this awesome picture of my Aunt Connie, sharing a tasty refreshment with her infant son while his adoring grandfather looked on...
The picture was taken in front of my parents' house during the Stampede parade; I can't count all of the ways in which it is wrong by today's standards: Providing alcohol to a minor. Violation of the open container law. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Child neglect, or abuse (depending on the sympathies of the presiding judge). Yet, I cannot help but love this photo, and, truth be told, to yearn for those simpler days.
I love that it captures, exactly, the way that I remember my Grandad.
I love that it reminds me of just how soft and squishy my cousin Brian's chubby little legs were and how delightful his laugh was.
I love that I see a strong resemblance between my aunt and myself.
I love that my childhood home is in the background.
And I love the mellowness of light that only old prints can capture.
If it hadn't been for Facebook, I probably would have never seen this photo, so, thanks, Facebook. Thanks, Cousin George. And, thank you to my Aunt Connie, for providing the photographer with an epic shot; I cannot wait to see how shocking some of the photos I have taken turn out to be forty years from now.