In our family, we do not celebrate birthdays. Ever. However last year for father's day, I made a scrapbook with my dad's old photos [sepia colored ones] from 1954 to 1975. It documented his school years in Vietnam, parts of the war with the village he grew up in, and his medical school days in Hue, Vietnam. He loved it because the one thing our family loves is pictures. We are picture whores. Dad has been an avid amateur photographer since he got his first Pentax in the 50s. He documented is life in photographs were kept in molded cardboxes until I discovered them, and saved the best ones in an acid free album.
Me's birthday this year happens to fall right after finals when I'm free for a month. I've accumulated a batch of childhood photos of me and my brothers, and these made the cut for the album.
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