My Scrapbook

When I was five years old, my mother and I created a scrapbook. My mother, a lover of the arts and crafts, helped me every day to put together this book of my life. We covered the book in a textured fabric full of vivid designs and fractals. In three places on the front cover, we left spaces for the best pictures to be placed. Inside the book we put hundreds of colorful pages of paper, each divided into categories. As my life progressed, I added pictures, full of cherished memories, to paint a detailed image of my life as I grew up. To this day, I still add pictures and glance back at the pictures I added years ago.
I was two years old, and I was a “daddy’s girl.” My dad was my best friend. Together we read, played games, took pictures, and stayed up all night. We were “night owls.” I wanted to do everything with my dad. We stayed up through the wee hours of the night listening to music and having fun. My mom was very disapproving; I was so young. One night...