I could never live without my family’s two large photo albums. One, a faded burgundy red, and the other, a shabby sage green. Both filled from cover to cover with hundreds of aged photos of my parents, aunts and uncles, cousins, brothers, and me. I sit down to look at them every once and a while and reminisce about the good ol days, when I was filled with innocence and youth. Every picture, a different story to go with it.

My 8th birthday. My family and I were at my grandparents’ lake house with my cousins. We made a cake and my cousin, Morgan, decorated it for me with a picture of Olaf and my nickname, K8.

New Years Eve, 2012. I was so excited to get to stay up late with my mom and drink sparkling grape juice while pretending it was wine. I was wearing my princess pjs and we ate popcorn while we got ready to watch the ball drop on the tv. I was never able to stay up late, so I ended up falling asleep on our black leather couch.

December 22nd, 2012. My Poppa brought all his grandkids on his four wheeler for rides around the yard. It was comfortable outside considering it was winter, although we were in Louisiana so it made sense. We would frequently go on these rides, weaving in and out of the three different mazes that Poppa made. There were two in the front yard and one in the back. As we would drive through the tall grass surrounding us, in the wagon connected to the four wheeler, there were dragonflies dancing all around us. Sometimes we would stop so my cousins could drive, but I always loved getting to sit in the back to watch my surroundings. We would drive around for a while and then we would drive to the garden and pick the vegetables. Poppa had everything, from tomatoes to blueberries to green beans and limes.

So, I could never live without those photo albums, because I never want to forget all the amazing memories from my youth.