When I downloaded my pictures from my camera my heart sank, my stories wilted and my chin fell to my chest.
Terrible pictures!
Yesterday was the last day of school. I went to the last day assembly and got to see Will in the front row of the band playing his trombone. In other band concerts I've attended, he sits in the back because he plays trombone. Yesterday they could stand wherever they wanted to. There he was, front row, I saw my chance, took my picture. My mind was running wild with words, a story of my boy, my little man playing so well. I couldn't wait to see the picture and let the story flow onto my keyboard.
Terrible. Fuzzy. You can't see him. They played the school fight song. It was incredible. They sounded fantastic. He was sliding his trombone, getting it done, while my picture did not.
Eighth grade is over. Lizzy got to shake hands with all her teachers, pick up her certificate and say goodbye to middle school. I was there. I had my camera. I was so proud. My heart felt like it was going to explode. I wish I could follow her around everywhere she goes. She is a force of nature and I simply love to watch her. My sweet girl will be in high school next year. I know there is no way to capture what I was feeling with a camera, no way to tell the entire story I had rolling around in my mind while I sat and watched her yesterday, but I thought I would do better than this.
Yes. This is roadkill. This is a possum. This is sitting directly at the end of my driveway. Lovely. This was day one of our roadkill experience. By day two, it had been hit several more times and it now actually lies in the gravel of our driveway. Elizabeth loved stepping over it to get on the bus yesterday. Terrible subject for a picture I know, I didn't really have a story to tell about it, and yet for some reason I was drawn to it. I simply had to take a picture of it.
Don't worry. I won't leave you with a dead possum. I did take some other pictures recently. Last weekend I got some work done on my flowerbeds. I weeded. I transplanted. I bought some annuals and put them in pots. Now I love to sit on my steps and just look. I sit, I look, I drink tea and I carress the pictures I have in my mind of this time, these days that are passing. The pictures in my mind are lovely and alive, incomparable with the ones that are in my camera. Pictures of girls with curls who dazzle and amaze me, of my little man with a trombone, a twinkle and a smile coming close to the time when I won't be able to call him little anymore, and a strong, sweet, wildly determined girl with a light in her eye and big changes in her near future, changes that may take her to a place where I won't as easily be able to capture her with my camera. Living stories, tangible, huggable, precious, precious stories.
So, here is my view from my steps.
Have a fabulous holiday weekend.
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