Antique postcards are one of my absolute favourite things. There is something really special about the little notes squeezed into the tiny message space. It's a sneak peak into someones life, someone who lived a long time ago. Well, it seems like a long time ago but when you think of the whole history of Earth maybe it's not so long...
I find it pretty amazing that so many of these postcards still exist, stored in shoeboxes and in basements. Now they are found at farmers markets, antique shops and all sorts of places you wouldn't expect. Over the years I have collected a pretty insane number of these cards. Maybe it's weird, but I enjoy reading peoples stories and I hate to think of them being lost or ruined or thrown away. Really they're just bits of old paper. But they're also scraps of someones life and proof that they existed. Does that make any sense?
So, every week I will be sharing another postcard here on the blog.
Todays postcard is actually a family one, it was sent to me by my Nana several years ago. She wrote that it was from the town her mother Eva was born in. The card has 'Ardley" printed on the front but nothing written on the back, so it must have just been kept as a picture. A little bit of digging and thanks to the wonderful (and oh-so reliable) resource of Wikipedia, I learned that Ardley is a small town Oxfordshire, England. The parish church in the photograph is called St. Mary's and dates back to 1074, well parts of it do... Isn't that just crazy!?! Buildings that historic never cease to boggle my North American mind. I'm not sure exactly when she moved to Canada, but I know that she was 18 when she was married. Her husband Tom joined the military to fight in WWI, at that time they had two young boys. He died at Vimy Ridge when he was just 26. It's really a sad story. Tom was the love of her life, and she never stopped missing him. Later she was married to my great grandfather, who I've heard was a sweet and kind man. But from family stories, it sounds like Eva was never really able to get over that loss and she carried it with her through her life and in her next marriage. It's heartbreaking, but I suppose I wouldn't exist if it had worked out differently.
Next week, I promise a more cheerful story. In the meantime, why not send a friend a postcard? I guarantee it will make their day.