I have a confession, or a compulsion. I take pictures. All the time. A lot of pictures. 2,000 from our trip to the OBX is a significant amount. For one week. Before the trip, I needed to buy a new memory card for the camera. My kids were with me and I was going to buy the 4MB one. My kids laughed and laughed and laughed. They made me buy the 32MB card. They know me so well.
BUT…..there is a reason, or two, that I take so many pictures..
My mantra should be……”Life, well documented.” I know, corny, but that is how I live. I look back at my life and wish I had so many more pictures of my childhood, and even my teen years. Not that I don’t remember them, but I would love for my kids to see more of what I experienced.
I would love for them to see a picture of Mrs. Hawkins, the elderly neighbor who always had a ‘special’ bag for my sister and me on Trick-or-Treat night. She lived right across the street (ok, catty-corner, but who else uses that word anymore?) from us. And I just typed a real long paragraph about her and realized she needs a post of her own. Point is, I have no pictures of her. Or of the sled riding hill next door. Or the cool forts we used to build in the field behind our house, that is now full of houses. Or my dog Coco who died the week of my high school graduation.
I want my kids to be able to show their memories to their kids and spouses.
Sure there are pictures of me/life when I was little. But not of the first road trip I ever took. To California. Right through an ice storm in Texas where the ice was an inch thick on the antenna. I hear the stories of the van breaking down on the way home and how we stopped at a diner and someone in my family got a big ol’ pile of hair on their mashed potatoes (not me because that was during my “I’m only eating spaghetti” kick). I’m sure it was one strand of hair, but as the years go on, the more hair there is. You know how that goes. If we had a picture of it, we would know for sure. I have no pictures of the van we took…it was ”The Bomb”!!! My dad did all the custom work on it. To explain it, doesn’t do it justice. But it had a round table that dropped to make a bed for us 4 kids to sleep on. And we fit a love seat in there. And swivel captain chairs up front. And carpet on the walls. Yes. Totally 70’s. No pictures.
When I was in junior high, they had a photography club. Yes, a little nerdy, and a little scary since we did the developing in the basement of the old red brick building. It’s where I was able to take my sister’s senior picture that was in color and make it black and white for the yearbook. Yes, back then the yearbooks were all black and white, and no computer programs to change them. This club encouraged me to submit a series of photographs for a competition (that I can’t remember…maybe Odyssey of the Mind) that I took first place in.
Remind me to put up the pictures from my freshman trip to Quebec….
I have one picture of Steve. It’s from the spring awards banquet in 8th grade. He’s smiling in the hallway right outside of the cafeteria in his blue shirt and tan jacket holding his award. He was the nicest kid. He liked everyone and could not have had a mean bone in his body. Because of him and his mom (she was a 2nd grade room mother), I learned about Hanukkah. A few months later he died from injuries sustained in a car accident. One picture.
Now, I have to be honest. I take pictures of everything. Well, almost everything. I take pictures of people. Places. Things. Whether it’s a popular landmark, or a leaf on the grass. I take a picture of it.
My wine glass on the hot tub, yep.
The snow covering my trees, yep.
The tobacco fields in NC, yep.
My sister after wearing a headband…yep..because it was funny!
I even have a picture of this:
…..because he is buried on top of a mountain, served in the War of 1812…and lived to be 95(!!!). Who lived to be 95 back in the 1800’s?? William Ambrose Marsh did. Bet he had a story or two he could tell.
I take pictures of Eggs Benedict, because I’m proud of my son.
….and sunsets…..either from the beaches of Rodanthe
….or the parking lot of the reservoir.
And my pets.
And bridges….even though I hate them.
My kids are used to it and have fun with it….
A co-worker of mine has an awesome camera that she lets me borrow (until my husband gets all the hints I drop). I have camera envy. She brought it in to work last week for me to take for this weeks road trip. Another co-worker asked why I was borrowing it, “just to take more pictures of a leaf?” Yep, that bothered me. It’s hard having your passion knocked around. I just told her not too worry, what ever I take pictures of, I won’t bother showing her. I will, however, continue to look at the 20 pictures of your kid sitting on a Christmas present. Because they matter to you. And there are memories attached to each one.
Because you are still reading, here’s a leaf or two…..
…and this gem since you’ve read all the way to the bottom….