“My Mother, the Most Beautiful Woman in the Room”

You don't have to call yourself a writer to write meaningful vignettes about your life. There are some notable books that can guide you on the journey of writing your life stories, and our blog regularly offers advice on the topic. Sometimes, though, all you need is a little inspiration.

With that in mind, this is the first in a series of contributions from memory-keepers: some who write for a living, and some who don't but are brave enough to pick up pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). Each of them uses a photograph as a prompt for writing a little life story. And each of them provides not only a wonderful short read, but a fine and unique example of how you too may approach telling the stories behind your family pictures.

I hope to make this series, "Pictures Into Words," a regular feature on the site; if you would like to contribute, please reach out via email or social media (Twitter or Instagram)—I would love to share your stories as inspiration, too.

Without further ado, part one in our series...

Pictures Into Words:

Author Rachel Brodsky and her mother

“My Mother, the Most Beautiful Woman in the Room”

By Rachel Brodsky

I don’t think it’s unusual for a daughter to view her mother as the most beautiful woman in the room. I certainly did. I was sure there was something that separated my mom from all other mothers. Maybe it was how tall she was, with her height clocking in at 5’9"—unusually lanky for a Jewish woman. Equally uncommon for a member of the tribe were her chest and backside, which were flat as pancakes—physical features she used to bemoan. But I thought those things, combined with her long, thin legs, made her look elegant and model-esque. I wanted to be naturally tall and thin when I grew up, too. I wanted to literally stand out from the crowd.

I used to stare, mesmerized, at a professional photo of the two us taken when I was barely a year old. My parents got me all dressed up for Baby’s First Photo Shoot, selecting a lacy white dress, a matching headband, and a string of long, Flapper-like pearls. They sat me down in a rocking chair holding a teddy bear, standing up on a white shag carpet, and each parent held me as they grinned into the camera. I remember thinking that this photo of my mom holding me in her arms was her at her most stunning. The way she, too, is dressed in white, looking up with a calm, quiet grace, seemed to radiate an uncommon mixture of innocence and wisdom.

Even as I—and the photo of us together—grew older, my mom still never seemed to age. Perhaps part of that has to do with the fact that she’s blessed with enviable genes—even today she’s well past 50 and still only has a smattering of barely visible gray hair. Maybe it’s also because she has maintained the same mid-length, feathery haircut decade after decade. Maybe it’s because she works out every week, stresses the importance of healthy foods (something that used to drive me insane as a kid, for obvious reasons), and never goes too heavy on the makeup—all habits I picked up once I got old enough to care about appearances.

Of course her beauty went beyond looks. She had, and still has, an openness, an honest streak, that let her smartly confront a lot of my teenage conundrums. When I was 10, I asked if I could begin shaving my legs. Not only did she agree, but she showed me how to do it without nicking myself. When I was 13 and started showing interest in makeup, she took me to the Clinique counter and bought me a starter kit. Fortunately, this never extended to anything truly embarrassing (it’s not like she bought me condoms in high school or college or quizzed me about my sex life), but the fact that Mom was inherently so open to discussing femininity and womanhood—no matter what the topic—just made her seem more progressive than most. Never mind the fact that she could easily pass for my cool, younger aunt instead of my mother.

Almost 30 years have gone by since this photo of us was taken. Her face has grown a few lines, her hair’s a little shorter, and usually I see her in glasses. But it's her inner elegance that has not changed a bit. I see it every time I look at her—the woman who is still the most beautiful one in the room.

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Rachel Brodsky is a writer and editor living in New York. She currently works for SPIN.com. She also has two cats, one of whom is named “Jones” for Sigourney Weaver's tabby in Alien.

When your wedding photographer doesn’t do albums, “I do”!

My own destination wedding

I had a storybook wedding on the Ligurian Coast of Italy, in a thirteenth-century church high above the ocean, waves crashing romantically below. To say this locale made for some stunning photographs would be an understatement.

My now-husband and I planned our wedding from afar, with the help of a tremendous company called Moonrings (also not local to us). Besides the fact that I wanted the smallest wedding possible—we had 4 guests travel with us, then celebrated back home in New York City with a much bigger party upon our return—I was a pretty laidback bride. 

Whatever flowers are in season, please. No, I don’t need to hear the violinist you recommend beforehand. I allowed Moonrings to guide me, stressed a bit only about the choice of photographer. If we were traveling across an ocean and embarking upon the trip of a lifetime (both literally and figuratively), I wanted the images to capture the magic of the moments and the essence of the place.

And then, coming from a magazine and design background myself, I wanted the resulting wedding album to be perfect, and to beautifully reflect my own aesthetic. I chose to purchase only the high-resolution images from my photographer, giving me the flexibility to order a book to my specifications once I got home rather than negotiate language barriers and time differences. 

I have since learned that this is a common choice for many destination-wedding brides, who return home married, with a boatload of special memories, and a disk of digital images but no wedding album. I also soon learned that ordering an heirloom-quality album on your own is not as easy as I had thought.

Overlooking the resplendent Ligurian Coast from just below St. Peter's Church in Portovenere. Photograph by David Bastianoni

No access to wedding album vendors 

Like most brides, I wanted my wedding book to be special—to feel more substantial than the year-end albums I would order from Blurb or Shutterfly. But the companies who print those luxurious wedding albums cater only to professional photographers. I ended up discovering an exquisite handmade album of the old-fashioned variety—with a leather cover with a relief of angels and vellum overlays between every page—and, after having my photos professionally retouched and printed, I adhered them into the book with good old photo corners (albeit silver ones).

My book is a handmade treasure, to be sure, but it was a pain in the you-know-what to produce. And I don’t think that DIY approach is for everyone. Indeed, if I had an alternative back then, it would not have been my preference, either.

Since launching Modern Heirloom Books—and now having access to the book vendors that I had not years before—I redid my own wedding book. Of course I still keep my original, scrapbook-like version. But I now also have an archival, modern book that I adore.

I mentioned that we had four guests at our Italian wedding. Three of them—mine and my husband's mothers, and my grandmother—have since passed away. The pictures that include our matriarchs have even more meaning to us now, and we decided to include a few more of them in this updated version, making the endeavor even more meaningful.

What about your wedding album?

Did you get married in a destination wedding and choose not to order a book from your photographer? Could you, perhaps, not afford the amazing wedding album you wanted back when you married, and now want to order something befitting the occasion? I’d love to help bring your vision to life (and to see—and do justice to—your pictures) with a professionally designed and printed wedding book.

Since Modern Heirloom Books always offers the option of purchasing a digital edition of your book, too (and we archive everything for our clients), the chance of your losing your precious photos is minimized greatly when you order from us. Which makes it a wonderful idea for a milestone anniversary gift, as well: We can easily transform your parents’ old wedding album, digitizing, restoring, and retouching old photos, even adding in current pictures celebrating their years together. 

Interested? Contact us to discuss the options (and relive some incredibly happy memories in the process!).

You might not buy into the old adage that a rainy wedding day brings good fortune, but you can't deny that often—with the right photographer behind the lens—Mother Nature styles some powerful photos. This one is cover-worthy, don't you think? Photograph by Hugo Juarez

Out-of-the-box ideas for making your photo book truly unique

What's your family listening to? Add a playlist to your photo book to add yet one more fun layer to your memories!

We’re all about high-end books here at Modern Heirloom, but that doesn’t mean we ignore the fun factor! Heirlooms shouldn’t be stuffy or overly conservative: They should reflect the values and real lives of their subjects. And—we hope—for most of you that means lives filled with joy, music, and good company.

When you come to us, we will do way more than design a book for you—we’ll help you sift through ALL those photos, make suggestions for storylines and book angles, and ultimately curate and visually edit your story to create a wonderful end product. And we’re always open to creative twists and add-ons.

Sometimes, though, you might just want to create your own books. We know that not every photo book needs to be handcrafted and archival (though, we’re always here for you to create those!). For example, you might want to create a cheaper book for your toddler with pictures for every letter of the alphabet, or with pictures of faraway relatives—something that your child can actually play with, and get pureed carrots on without consequence. Or you might want your teens to put together their own version of a family annual, so you memorialize their point of view and favorite photos.

No matter the reason, there are times you’ll want to do your own thing. With that in mind, here are a few out-of-the-box ideas for adding color to your homemade books.

Blow some cartoony thought bubbles.

You might not be a designer, but that doesn’t mean you can’t add a few graphic elements to your book that’ll look professionally done. One of my favorite lighthearted design additions is the classic thought bubble. We’re all used to annotating our images these days on Instagram and Facebook, so why not let that sense of humor shine through in your photo books, too? Just search online for “free clip art thought bubbles,” or find fun templates in software such as Canva.

Add a book soundtrack.

Did you know that sensory cues can help trigger memories? Like the smell of bread baking eliciting memories of Grandma’s house, for instance. And while smell may most strongly evoke emotions, I have yet to find a way to produce a scratch-and-sniff photo book. You can, however, create a good old-fashioned print book and add in a musical component. 

Brainstorm a music playlist to listen to while viewing your book. If it’s a family album, ask everyone to check back on their devices for their most played songs; think of the songs that marked occasions such as summer road trips or your kid’s camp performance. If your book is celebrating an occasion, record the obvious: songs played at the bar/bat mitzvah or wedding reception. A fiftieth wedding anniversary? Maybe you select a couple of songs per decade that have meaning to the golden couple.

Definitely typeset the list of songs and artists and include as a Playlist Epigraph in your book. If you’ve got the means, burn a CD of the music as well and keep in a plastic sleeve at the back of your book. For Modern Heirloom Books customers who decide to purchase a digital version of their book in addition to the hard copy, we can include the digital music files on the same flash drive.

Have some fill-in-the-blank fun.

Go a little Mad Libs with fun fill-in-the-blank statements scattered throughout your book. This is not appropriate for certain topics, of course, but there are a few that would benefit from the levity. One we love: A mini book in celebration of a half-birthday. Some ideas:

In these past six months, I have gotten so much more ________ and __________. I’m __________ now.

All I want for my half-birthday is ________________________.

Typeset the sentences and fill in the blanks with your handwriting, which makes the photo book that much personal, adding the human touch.

Animate your story with flip book corners.

Do you remember those little books when we were kids that you flipped the pages and the stick figures moved? I haven’t seen one of those in ages, but Pinterest and YouTube are filled with creative ideas for making them.

If you can draw, why not create a series of illustrations that grace the bottom right corner of your photo book, so there is an animated story running parallel to your photographic one? If you’re working with us and want to incorporate this idea into a book, we can hire an illustrator to customize your book corners with your own flip book. We especially love this idea for a Proposal book—share the story of your relationship through photographs and simultaneously show a cartoon-you going down on bended knee to pop the big question, flip-book-style!

We'd love to hear other creative ideas you have—or see the results of your own designs! Please share in the comments below or on social media.

How a struggle to tell my mother’s whole story turned into a more intimate portrait of love

Mother & daughter: an enduring friendship cut too short

When I was a teenager I gifted my mom with one of those split-heart necklaces declaring each bearer the other’s “best friend.” It never occurred to me to be embarrassed. My relationship with my mother was beyond special, and I always felt keenly aware of how blessed I was to have it.

Three months after I delivered my son, my mother died unexpectedly. At exactly the moment I felt most close to her, I lost her.

That was 2009. Every day since, well, I think of her. I ache for her, love her still. Remember her. And try to honor her memory by being the best person and mother I can be.

That my mother was able to meet her grandson, that I have a few beautiful photos of her holding my son, 12 weeks’ worth of memories of her bonding with him—just, thank God. Conversely, none of that makes up for the fact that my boy won’t remember his grandmother. He won’t know her purity of heart, her generosity, her surprising sense of humor.

I talk about my mom often, sometimes sharing stories that reveal her character or my favorite memories from my own childhood. Occasionally I just drop small references: Your grandmother adored daisies. She would have loved that dance move! I learned how to make this spinach quiche from my mom.

My mother’s spirit permeates my life. But without having other family members to talk of her with, without having relatives with whom I might be able to relive memories...I worry the memories will fade.

“Without having relatives with whom I might be able to relive memories...I worry the memories will fade.”

Procrastinating, or ruminating?

I spent countless hours going through boxes of old photos: black-and-whites of my mother, mostly from her teenage years. Many of my favorites were of her posed in some fashionable ensemble epitomizing the decade: festooned in a sleek belted dress in the late ’50s, donning a leopard-print faux-fur jacket in the ’60s, rocking a hand-crocheted pom-pom hat in the ’70s.

I cherish the scattered few pictures from her early childhood. And seeing photographs that showed everyday scenarios got me excited—they gave me visuals of her life before me.

When it came time to sit down and put together a photo book honoring my mother, though, I was stumped. At first I struggled with how to adequately bring this woman to life. How could I make others see—really see—how remarkable she truly was? How could I give a rounded impression of the person I knew and loved?

I couldn’t.

This depressed me for a while. I abandoned the book idea, and instead lost myself from time to time in re-examining the pictures in all those boxes. The sense of joy that came with happening upon a photo of her laughing, or again picking up one of her that reminds me of my son now, became addictive. I would begin to sort the photographs, setting aside a few favorites each time to scan, but would soon find myself down a rabbit hole, replacing the stacks back in the boxes to be rediscovered a different day. I was frustrated that I had made no progress in organizing the images or putting together a book. Yet I think I subconsciously relished the idea of being able to come back to the boxes anew, preserving some sense of serendipity: The boxes were a treasure chest, and I wanted to touch and feel the golden treasures within at will.

One day it dawned on me: Don’t make a book about her. Tell our story.

“Mommy & Me: A Love Story”

I knew I’d never be able to paint a full enough picture of my mother. And I didn’t want a boring (typically lengthy) biography, anyway. I had a trove of letters we each had saved over the years, from our correspondence when I was in college (at a time before the Internet made snail-mail almost obsolete) all the way until I got married and then pregnant. Despite daily phone calls, we both still felt compelled to share our love and feelings in writing. What a gift.

The process of putting this book together was cathartic and healing. I know now that I procrastinated in doing so because I needed time—time to let the ideas percolate in the back of my mind, and time to be ready to finish the grieving process. No, I’ll never truly be done grieving; but I do feel (almost) whole again, and proud of the book I have made in my mother’s honor.

This book, a gift to myself and eventually to my son, is as personal as it gets. Rather than post the entire book, I decided to share a slightly condensed version: I want to give you ideas for crafting your own story, plant some seeds of inspiration. And give you a glimpse into my relationship with my beloved mother.

The full book—with pages that reveal some incredibly personal letters and depict details from my life—I am reserving for my son...and hopefully the family he bears in the future.

Who would you like to honor?

I waited until my mother was gone from this Earth before endeavoring to tell our story in book form; but we were creating our story all along. As you are doing with those you love, I hope--living life out loud and mindfully, being present in the moment, allowing yourself to truly experience the full gamut of emotions.

Writer Allison Gilbert recently posted a quote that moved me on Instagram: “Make this year the year to remember loved ones intentionally.”

Who would you choose to honor with a legacy book? A grandparent who has recently deceased? A great-grandparent you’ve never met but heard plenty of family stories about over the years (preserve those!)? What about your living parents? What a gift to be able to interview your parents now, to not take their stories and wisdom for granted!

I can’t wait to “meet” the members of your family legacies and to help you honor them. Please reach out today to see how we can work together to create the book of your dreams.

Your search for “unique bridal shower gifts from the parents” ends here

What did you feel when your daughter announced that she was engaged? Pride, astonishment, an overflow of emotions? Tears of joy? You’re not alone.

And while registering at Crate & Barrel and Bloomingdale’s followed by an at-home champagne toast is a memorable (if exhausting) outing, why not consider a wedding shower gift that will truly move her: our signature “Dear Daughter, on Your Wedding Day,” an heirloom book honoring the girl she was—the one you nurtured and watched blossom—and the woman she has become.

During your daughter’s engagement period, it’s inevitable that you’ll both be reflecting on her journey. Let yourself relish the memories. Pull out those old boxes of photos, the family albums, her baby book. Remember what she was like as a precocious toddler, an awkward tween, a graceful graduate. What characteristics did she inherit from you? What surprised you about her choices over the years?

Designing a Book in Honor of Your Daughter for Her Wedding Shower

Modern Heirloom Books can help you stitch the memories and observations together into a cohesive and emotional narrative. Together we will identify the most evocative pictures and prepare them for print. We’ll even help you identify gaps in the visual storyline and come up with creative ways to fill them in—sending your daughter’s bronzed baby shoes or old lovey to a professional photographer for inclusion in the book, for instance. Or helping you stage your own shots of framed images on your mantel or, say…her favorite comfort food!

Maybe we plan a “secret” get-together with a photographer and your daughter’s siblings and closest friends to take their portraits and record their favorite memories of your daughter as a child.

We’ll select a book style based on your daughter’s personality: Perhaps a Victorian damask fabric cover encased in a matching sheath box for your romantic girl, or a luxurious velvet-covered book with silver foil stamping for your traditional child. An array of rich leathers, Japanese silks, textured fabrics, and other unique design options offers something for every bride-to-be.

So before your daughter walks down the aisle, and before you get caught up in the storm of wedding favors and seating charts, why not embark upon a nostalgic journey that ends with a perfect wedding shower gift from the parents? (It’s an especially touching gift when crafted by a Daddy for his all-grown-up girl!)

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Set up a consultation to see how we can work together.
To have the most efficient conversation, know your timeline (when would you need the book?) and consider where your photos are (you might be surprised that they're not always on hand!). Oh...

...and CONGRATULATIONS on your daughter's impending nuptials!