What is it about old photos?

My mumma has a stack of those old adhesive photo albums that hold memories for her and reminders for my sister and I that she was undeniably lovely.

I often wonder what her thoughts are when the photos were taken and what she was going through in her life at the time.

Whenever I browse through the stack of reminders, I always find myself drawn to the photos of her that reflect my own age. I wonder if she feels the same way about my dad as I do about my love? Did she like her job? What did she dream of?

I wonder if we would have been friends if I wasn’t her daughter and if we were the same age? Would she still be able to offer me the same unfaltering advice but as a friend and not a mumma?

Is it just a given that we think our mums are so unbelievably pretty when they were younger? I wonder if it’s the old photos and the nostalgic charm that makes them ever so dreamy.

My sister and I are in agreeance that photos of us will never look this cool.