A story teller.
There is always one who seems called to find the ancestors.
To put memories into the pictures, soul into the myths. To make them live again.
In finding them, somehow, I hope we find ourselves.
How many pictures have I stared into..and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say.
How proud we are, of what they were able to accomplish.
How they contributed to what we are today.
Respect for their hardships, their never say die spirit, their resoluteness - to build a better life for their family.
Respect that the fathers fought and gave up everything to make our nation.
Pride that our mothers struggled to bring us into this world. Without them, we could not exist - all love for each one of them.
They did what they did, for us.
It is because of them, we are born who we are.
And we might remember them.
So we do.
With love and care, re-building their existence.
We are they and they are the sum of who we are.
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