I was doing some family history work the other day (OK, not really "work" since I love to do it), and was surprised (more like horrified) when I realized that this year I'm the same age my grandmother was when I got married! How depressing is that?
Now admittedly, we were both very young brides. But, still. I guess that means I'm getting really, really old.
This is me on my wedding day with my MaMa (pronounced Maw-Maw). I know - what a yucky thing to call one's grandma. She was my mother's mother, and I was her first grandchild. And since my father's mother already had a raft of grandkids who called her Granny, Mamma's mom was stuck with MaMa. So I suppose I might be the culprit responsible for giving her that nickname. I'd like to think she chose it for herself, but who would do that?
Anyway. In this photo she's giving me a sixpence for my shoe (for good luck). She gave me a lace handkerchief to carry too, for my "something old." I think she did that for all the brides in the family. I've still got the hankie. I wonder if that sixpence is hiding somewhere around here, too.