As my dad descends more and more into dementia and my mom into alcoholism, I can only remember the last decade, which has been heartache. These two miserable people are not the people who raised me, and our happy family is a distant memory. I find the old photos very odd and even disturbing - I guess especially that, because of my mom's alcoholism, she has been unable to care for (or about) my dad in years. It's as ugly as things can get. In a strange way it makes me feel good to run the old photos into the shredder. I think it's because I am anxious to look forward and grab onto the rest of my life. I am anxious to enjoy MY future and hoping there is one out there for me when these two are gone. I know, weird, right?