Yesterday, one of my nephews was in town for a three-hour layover at the airport. He and his girlfriend were flying from South Dakota back to California, and I was able to carve some time out of the weekend to go pick them up and give them a driving tour of the area.
Among other things, we did a purposeful drive across the Mississippi River, because his girlfriend (a Californian born and raised) had never been east of the Mississippi. We later went on a walk halfway across a bridge over the river in downtown Minneapolis, so that we could take their picture "in the middle of" the Mississippi.
In return, she took a picture of my nephew and me in the same spot. At which point something odd dawned on me.
I'm starting to ramp up for a 25-year reunion trip to Paris, to see some of the people I knew when I lived and taught there between college and grad school. And, when I lived there, when people would send me postcards or photos I would put them up on the edges of the window in the "living room" (it was a very small apartment, so that's using the term very loosely).
One set of photos was of my sister, and included a photo of her newborn son. My nephew. My now-25-year-old nephew. With whom I got my photo taken in the middle of the Stone Arch bridge, yesterday.
Yeah... if the years don't get you, the photographs will.