My little orange envelope, or more of a large one, arrived a short time after and I sat and went through the pictures over lunch one day. Each one I flipped though brought a bigger smile to my face and I even laughed aloud a handful of times at the memory of how silly my kids are. I tend to forget those moments when the majority of time they are wild little monsters with a mission to turn my hair grey much too young. For some reason, reliving these joyful, silly and fun memories reminded me of a part of a sermon my last Rabbi gave two or three years ago.
It clearly was one that resonated with me since I'm not sure I can recall any other sermon I've ever heard. In short, he talked about how he was always videoing his kids when they were younger because he didn't want to miss anything. At some point he realized that he was missing everything because he was behind the camera rather than fully in the moment, taking part of the memory being made. Clearly the point was to live in the present, to fully soak in the memories and the time you have with your family because kids grow up much too quickly and in the blink of an eye, they are adults themselves. He encouraged us to come out from behind the camera and join in the memory.
This idea was very difficult for me to accept. I live by my camera. I have for a very long time. I was editor and chief of my senior yearbook and took many of the photos myself. I even spent countless hours in the darkroom developing them the old school way. Yes, I was truly developing film in the darkroom. Not that I can remember how to do that now! I was devastated when I lost my camera at a fraternity party one night in college that held a couple nights full of memories which I certainly can't recall now. While negatives are obsolete, I keep all the ones I have in my fire proof box. I have photo boxes full of memories, albums from my childhood, and with modern technology as it is, my iPhone is always full.
Despite uploading the pictures from my phone to shutterfly, my computer and then saving to an external hard drive, I still get anxiety about deleting them. It's as if hitting delete will somehow erase them forever. I realize this is silly. The thing is, I've been a bit obsessed with having as many memories as possible in print since I did a research paper on Alzheimer's in high school and learned it has a hereditary component. My grandma was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's in her mid-forties. Yes, her FORTIES. She was one of the youngest ever to be diagnosed with this disease, at least then she was. She passed in her fifties when I was 12 years old.
I have memories of my mom taking care of her as she wondered at night. My Pap worked nights and took care of her all day. Since my mom and I lived with them at that time, she cared for her at night. I remember her in the nursing home... a blank slate. It was like there was no life in her eyes. She had lost everything, all her memories. While I know that once the disease progresses to that point pictures won't mean a thing, I can't help but hope if I ever met such a tragic fate that my pictures would keep that light of life in me. Even if just enough to make it easier on my family to bear.
Alzheimer's is truly horrific. To me, it's almost as if your life was pointless in a way. If you can't remember your life in the end, then what do you have? Perhaps the soul departs long before the end so your energy is out there somewhere and it's okay. It's not really possible to know. But it's one of my greatest fears. That I'll forget it all. That I won't remember the birth of my kids, their snuggles as I put them to bed, their giggles.
So, yes, I still live behind my camera. My fear of forgetting keeps me there. I try to soak in the times when I don't have my camera as much as possible. I try to breathe them in and let them fill every part of me so no matter what the future brings, I won't forget them. I often find I have no memories of many things. Most of college is gone. Much of my childhood consists of sporadic moments, often the more tragic and traumatic parts I recall and the rest are a few second clips here and there. Even now, I try to think back to important moments from the recent past and I feel too much is missing. I worry I killed too many brain cells in my college years or that my head is simply predisposed to forgetting. Either way, it scares the hell out of me.
My only solution is to snap away. So that's what I do. It may annoy some that my phone is always in front of my face or that I post new photos to Facebook regularly. Heck, my two and three year old even tell me enough is enough sometimes, or I get that fake, come on Mom, smile. But when those prints come in, I remember. And I smile. Maybe it's selfish of me. But I need those moments. I need those smiles.
It breaks my heart that my grandma met such a fate. It makes me cringe at what that nasty disease does to a person's mind. It's devastating how it impacts every person who knows and loves someone with Alzheimer's. The impact lingers for generations.
I pray I never need my pictures to fill me with life someday but rather be able to fondly reminisce over them throughout the years. And of course embarrass my kids with their bath and potty pictures or some other ridiculous thing they did that their future spouse will tease them about until they are old an grey. That's what parents are for, right?!
To me, that's the beauty of photographs. And videos. As long as they exist, so does the memory. It's concrete, you can see it. That sense of sight enables you to feel it and live it again. So my life is a photo. A whole heck of a lot of them in fact! But it's also right here and right now. I simply ensure memories last a lifetime, and then some. And I'm okay with that.
 |
| I sure don't remember this. But this memory of 4 generations together always brings a smile to my face! |
No comments:
Post a Comment
Namaste!
Jaci