As I prepared to enter into the sixth decade of my life and retirement (I am now 64), I found scrapbooking. Or I should say it found me.

I had all my photographs in nice boxes, all mixed in together. I had filled these boxes since my daughter was born; she is now 37 years old.

A young friend invited me to a scrapbook party. I sat there fascinated, my heart pounding, thinking of all the possibilities. It was love at first sight! I bought a blank album and a few starter supplies, came home and spent all night thinking and planning album upon album. And as the dawn shone on the horizon I knew I had found a passion that would stay with me forever.

I made my first album in three days, and while I worked on it, I watched my daughter grow again from a baby to a gangling grade-school child to a teenager and then into a wonderful young mother.

Why do I scrapbook? As I look at my photographs I welcome the rekindling of old memories as one would welcome home a long lost friend. Scrapbooking is a kindred spirit, and my gift to my family and myself.

As I work on my pages, my mind is already racing with the possibilities that will become the realities new albums. I think that creating lasting memories for my family is the best way to let present and future generations view a special part of me. My scrapbooks reflect the best part of me and provide a window into my loves, my joys, and my soul.

Scrapbooking is personal. It is also communal. It is a time for personal joy and tears. It is a time to socialize and share at crop-meets and online galleries. It is a time to gather family around--laughing, crying and reviving good times and great memories.

My circle of friends has expanded, my outlook on life is rosier, and my heart has grown younger, and it is all due to some paper, some pens, a little glue, a good computer, some old photographs, and boxes and boxes of memories.