Wednesday, September 2, 2009
My mother's photograph albums, and my sister's were always dear to me. I am no longer able to view them. They have been carried away by another family member, never to be seen by the rest of us again. But it doesn't really matter. Every photograph in those albums is safe in my heart and in my brain.
And I no longer have the need to see the sights that thrilled me so in the past. I do have photographs of them - many books filled with photographs. I was so eager to record those sights so they could never be forgotten. How foolish of me. They can never be forgotten.
I rarely open those albums today. It isn't necessary. Every photograph between their covers is imprinted in my mind. Old pictures from my childhood. My mother. My sister. And later, my husband when we first met. His smile. The way he looked at our children.
And after he was gone - myself, looking so lost for so long.
Our dog, our home, and in more recent years, the places that I wandered, always wishing he was with me to share the beauty of our world again -
to watch our children become adults, beginning their own lives, bringing our grandchildren into the world.
And later still, just marking time as it passed without him. Beauty still - the butterfly, the flower, the sea, the mountain. Photographs in my mind, waiting to be shared with him again.
Today I fill my computer with my photographs. Each time I add some to the folders I wonder - when I am gone, will anyone look at them again? And if they do, will they see what I see there? Or will these pictures just disappear into cyberspace? Will any of them continue to live, in someone else's mind?
If any of you have followed my blog from its beginning, early in 2008, you've seen all of these photos before and many more. Sorry. Just feeling sentimental.