We live in a SELFIE society.
My iPhone tracks my selfies. To date, I have 210 selfies stored in a folder on my phone. Hundreds, maybe thousands of my selfies are stored in digital files. I've been taking selfies for at least 10 years. Probably more like 15. Perhaps we are the selfie generation. People didn't take selfies 20 years ago. They definitely didn't take selfies 32 years ago. We live in a RE-Take society. Don't like the angle or the lighting on the photo, retake it. Forgot to wear a nice shirt on school picture day, retake it. Weird angle or background in the picture, move over a few steps, retake it. People didn't have that option 32 years ago. One or two or ten photos from a given event were locked in the camera for weeks or months until the film was processed. The number of copies are finite. A relatively small box of photos are all that remain from my childhood. A few were pasted in a yellowing photo album. Some were loose, randomly assorted between pictures from Christmases past, and others were stuffed into envelops amongst film negatives and polaroid coupons. Over the weekend, I was sorting through my old photos and noticed a theme in several of the photos. The ones above are particularly special. No selfies. No retakes. No perfect poses. No filters. Just candid moments. Photos of people holding me as a baby. But they aren't just holding me. They are looking at me, smiling. Showing their love. There I am....helpless and unaware....just being a baby. My Pawpaw, my Grandma Pat and my mom are all engaged in a special moment. They might vaguely register that someone around them is snapping photos with a camera, but they aren't paying much attention. They aren't posing perfectly, we aren't wearing matching outfits and they aren't interested in taking a selfie for selfie's sake. Whomever was holding the camera, an aunt, a grandma or my dad must've seen a special moment and wanted to capture it on film. I'm forever grateful to whomever that was who took the time to take these pictures. Instead of turning the camera back on themselves, pushing out their duck lips, popping up a peace sign and winking into the lens, the photographer recognized the special moments happing right in front of them and captured it forever in one click. All of the memories captured in the photos above remind me that our lives are finite. My mom, my Pawpaw and my Grandma Pat are all gone. Even though I was too little to remember the moments in the photos, the way they are looking at me, full of love and joy....it is a humbling reminder to stop looking at myself, and start noticing the special moments happening all around me.
2 Comments
Ariel Snyder
3/3/2016 01:44:50 pm
Love this! Thank you for the reminder to enjoy the life and moments we are living and not getting so caught up in getting the perfect picture!
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Laura Koch
3/3/2016 07:00:07 pm
My parents moved to STL when I was in college and called me home to pack up all my things (around 9 years ago). Amongst the junk and clutter I found a small tin lunch box with a handful of used camera films. I packed them up and thought, "I have no idea what pictures I took, but one day I'll develop them and look back with fond appreciation on whatever I thought was special enough to capture." On our last move, two or three years ago I found them again and had a heart wrenching thought, "what if no one develops film anymore by the time I find these again!"
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Mrs. Mitchell
This is my 'slice of life' blog. Archives
March 2020
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