my grand mother and me

I always wondered who she was because I knew too much of how she looked like. I look like her: my grandmother who died at my age 34. Though, our physical resemblance is as similar as our destinies are so unlike. The magic of photo montage is reuniting us. I wanted her next to me because I was hoping her inheritance not being only physical. I wanted her next to me without dust, without the plastic film of the old family album page and here is she, displayed on the web, the countryside women who has never traveled, This studio photo of her doesn't give a hint about her life. She was the wife of a farmer, helping in the fields, never left her country and had already 5 children when she prematurely died. Half a century later me, her grand-daughter, has a completely different life, single women without child, leaving abroad, traveling extensively, speaking several languages, but am I more happy? At the end is not only about my grand-mother and me, it is about nostalgia, identity, heritage, appearance, globalization, digital technology, evolution… or regression ?