Back when I started to take pictures, it was because I wanted to remember every moment of their lives. I wanted to remember the sly smile, the look of intensity or the joy in them. I wanted to be able to look back on it years down the road and be able to tell them a story behind the picture.
I think it was all born out of lack of pictures or a lack of a story. I have 2 pictures of my mother and I. Two. I wonder about what was going on in those pictures, what is the back story. I think it is because I don’t have her here to ask.
But then my dad married the lady who became my mom, and she took pictures all the time. I have a bunch and I am sure in her attic or closet somewhere there is stacks and stacks. I remember the little things like the smell of a fresh canister of film. The whirl the cameras would make when the film was done. The excitement of the little envelope of pictures. Back in the day (just to much fun to say) we had to wait to see what came out. And then she would sit and write on the back of the pictures. Dates, times, people in them and why. I can look at those pictures today and there is no mystery. That is a gift.
I think that is what shaped my need for photographs. The two moms in my life. The one who left a hole in me, and the other who filled it up.
More than I would like to admit, my mom has shaped who I am. I want to give my kids what I can find in her closets. A story of who they are, so that even if I am not around they can rummage through my files and laugh at what made me smile and tear up.
So the back story of this picture. My son is now being cyber schooled. Long story short, his school did not work with his gifted mind and this works better for us. He is now home all day with me. Most of which we are sitting at the kitchen table, with laptops and school books and paper. But he takes these breaks in the day to relax and get focused. A home version of recess and class breaks.
He has taken to doing things he knows that his sister would lose her cool about. And one of those things is playing her instruments.
This her ukulele. She loves it and is teaching herself to play it since her guitar teacher wont. And if she were here, this might have been a fight. But she wasn’t and he got his hands on it. He played it for a whole break. Just kind of jammimg away. Then the time came where he had to go back to class. He packed it away, tucked it back where she had it, and she never knew.
I took the moment to grab a picture. I loved the way the light hit him. I love the look on his face. I love the story. This I want to remember when he leaves my house and starts on his own life. The moment at 12 where he took 15 minutes to find the music in the day..