Francka had a huge number of albums, which she often showed me when I was still a little girl. Back then, I didn't really understand why. Almost all the photographs were black and white, and some were already a little yellowed. Their edges were worn, and the paper bore the traces of decades.
»Look, this is...« she began to recount. And then the story followed. About people I didn't know. About her childhood, relatives, holidays, visits, and special days. I loved listening to her stories, because through them she was passing on our family history to me.
Mum Francka and Dad Jože brought up six children. In their home, many stories, hard work, worries, laughter, celebrations and everyday moments were intertwined. And it is precisely these old albums, which we still keep today, that are one of the most beautiful connections to a time that has long since passed. While looking through the photos, I often think that these used to be taken quite differently than they are today.
Today we photograph almost everything; every meal, trip, coffee, flower and smile. Photographs are created in an instant and we take hundreds of them, but sometimes it wasn't like that. Photography was something special back then and wasn't created in passing. They might have taken two or three photographs of an important event, and then hoped that the photographer would manage to develop them all.
A person belongs to the people whose stories they carry within them, even if they were born many years later. Mum taught me that family are not just the people we see today, but also everything that came before us. Heritage is not just old houses, objects and photographs, but also the stories that we pass on.
That is why we still keep these albums today, as they are our true family treasure. I hope that one day I will be able to show them to my grandchildren too and tell them: »This was your great-great-grandmother Francka. This was your great-great-grandfather Jože.«
That way they too will understand one day that these are not just black-and-white photographs, but that they are part of our roots. We must not forget our past, but must pass it on. Mum Francka showed me this simply by sitting down with me, opening the album and starting to tell stories.
I now understand. Every time she showed me a photograph, she introduced me to a piece of our family. And every time I open her old album today, I feel gratitude. Photographs can fade, paper can yellow, people leave, but the story we pass on can live on for a long time. This is our heritage.
Maja Grošelj, 12 August 2026
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