My childhood memories begin to get really fuzzy anytime prior to the seventh grade. Oddly enough, it’s probably the not-so-great memories that stick in my head better than the rest; like the time I got beat up by the kid from the wrong side of the tracks with a pillow polo stick (yes, a pillow polo stick can hurt). Being a photographer, I have cheated my kids out of fuzzy memories because I have captured so many of them that would have otherwise been forgotten over time. When I see an experience amounting into what would be considered a pinnacle memory, my lens and my concentration becomes uber focused. I have come to really respect the value of these moments.
Today, Kate ran the 800 meter at a track meet. She doesnt hide the fact that she is the family’s more reluctant runner. In this home, we are keenly aware that she could quite possible read 1000 pages faster than any of us could run a marathon. It’s her passion. But on this raw day, she put the book down so she could make strides off the pages of a book. There were no throngs of people cheering; the people that were there, just wanted to be in their cars with the seat-heater on. As a photographer, I wouldn’t have characterized it as a pinnacle picture type of day, but I have learned to stay aware. The top runners would leap ahead and there would be no exciting photo finish with my daughter breaking the tape first. Nonetheless, Kate would finish and I would cheer like she had just medaled in the Olympics. In my mind, the crowd roared even if everyone else around me just sat shivering as the rain started to fall. Kate’s coach, knowing the girl, approached my reluctant runner and hugged her whole-heartedly. The pinnacle moment had come, so I snapped the shutter. In that moment, an affirmation of one’s abilities was realized and rewarded in the form of a hug. Once again, I realized that the most photo-worthy moments don’t usually happen during the show-stopping high note; you need to look for the nuance that gets to the heart of the matter. While this memory would have grown fuzzy over passing time, it’s now locked in and justified in life’s bigger picture.
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As I hiked today, I listened to Bob Marley on my iPod. I looked up at the blue sky peeking through the highest branches of the tall maple forest. I sighed thinking that Bob Marley was taken while he was in his prime. I hummed as I ran along, thinking of my sister in law who was also taken from us too early. The chorus, "could you be, could you be, could you be loved", buzzed in my head along with the sound of peepers in a nearby pond. For the next 3 miles, I trudged through the early spring mud and over logs thinking only of her. I thought of how she would have loved a day like today, one where you could see winter become a distant memory; one where the positives outweighed all else. As I contemplated the sister in law I had recently lost, my husband was making his way home on his bicycle like he does every day from New Haven. He traveled down route 77 with his wheel hugging the inside of the road’s white line. Without so much the rev of an engine, a car driven by an elderly woman, lost control and swerved off the road sharply on his right. Her driver’s side mirror grabbed the small plastic case attached to his bicycle that held his spare tires and such. Before he knew it, he locked his eyes on hers as the bike jolted forward along with the force of the car. As it all flashed by, the small case tore raggedly off the bike and the torque forced the buckles of his shoes to tear off. being released from the cars grip, his legs now unclipped from his pedals, splayed out as he hit his brake and came to a dazed stop. Her car moved forward now nearly sideways on an embankment until it came to a halt. How he only walked away from this with only a foot injury may just be a miracle. In that same minute as I sang Bob Marley’s, “Could You Be Loved”, my husband was protected somehow. This blog has spoken often of the everyday ordinary miracles that happen in my life. Today, an angel like no other reached out and said, “Yes, you would be loved.”
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