A picture is worth a thousand words

My camera died.  Actually, it is on life support as we speak but I think I am going to have to pull the plug.  I have consulted experts and I have talked with lay people and my informed opinion is that my beloved camera has seen better days and needs to be put out of it's misery.  It just wasn't meant to be used the way I used it.  When I told the Canon technical expert how many pictures my poor camera had taken in the past 3 years, he about choked and asked me to check that number again.  He then told me that the error message I was getting was to be expected when you have taken that many pictures.  He then asked me if I was a professional photographer?  My turn to chuckle.  No, I am no expert and if I was, I probably would have a much more elaborate camera.  He then suggested that if I was going to continue taking so many pictures, I may want to get out of the entry level arena and move to a more durable camera...Music to my ears.  Heartbreaking for my pocketbook.  You see...I have no dreams of being a professional photographer, but I also have no plans to stop taking so many pictures. It's a lifeline to me...from my family to, well, my family.  I will explain.

In the past couple of years (since MadHatter was born) I have been accused of taking too many pictures.  Way, way too many pictures.  But I say, one can never take too many pictures.  How can there be too many memories?  How can you see a moment that has been frozen in time and not be transported back to that moment?   Even if you weren't there, you imagine how it might have been. You see the face of your newborn grandchild captured at the instant that it was first seen by the outside world and you smile, it's almost as good as being there.  Almost.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I don't evoke these emotions because I am the best photographer in the world.  I am no slouch around a camera, and when I take my time, I can shoot with the best of them but the thing is, I don't really care to take the time most of the time.  I just want to shoot the picture, capture the general feeling of what is happening and then get out from behind my lense and truly enjoy life, as it is happening...with the people I love.  But if you are looking at my pictures, I want you to feel like you were there.  That you were a part of it.  I don't care if it was centered perfectly, or the rule of thirds was properly executed.  I don't care if the picture would have been that much better if I had just shortened the focal point or sped up the shutter speed by half.  Because I am not really shooting these pictures for me (well, I am but I'm not) but rather, I am shooting them for the people that can't be there to experience the moment as it is happening.  Mostly, I do it for the family.

I know all too well what it is like to grow up without an extended family.  I never really got to know my grandparents, my aunts, uncles and cousins.  My family was my brothers and my parents and that was ok with me.  We moved a bit when we were kids and just knowing that our small nuclear family was there, made anywhere feel like home.  We visited the extended family when we could, which was about twice a year.  Not enough time for anyone to really get to know each other.  I don't know any different, so that is my reality.  I never really thought much of it until I had children of my own. But when MadHatter was born,  I started to think about whether this was what I wanted for my children?  Is that the way my parents would want to know their grandchildren or my brothers their nieces?  Or B's family (which is very Latin and much closer!)? My  answer was a resounding no. But how do I go about changing the reality of the fact that we didn't live anywhere near either of our extended families (and I mean nowhere within 1500 miles close, some not within 6000 miles).  How do you bridge those kinds of distances?   I did it with pictures.  Lots and lots of pictures.  I set up a website and sent the link out to everyone and then I fed that link with hundreds of pictures weekly.  I took pictures of her first smile, her first bath, her first everything. I even took pictures of her sleeping.  I wanted to make sure that even though they couldn't be there for all the first's, they could still live them with us.  I  snapped pictures everywhere, until even B (the proud Papa) told me it was enough.  And all I could think of was - it will never be enough.  I cannot take enough pictures to make up for all they are missing.  For all the moments that we get to live and they have to see secondhand.  I wanted the whole extended family to feel like they knew both of our girls from the minute they were born.  I just didn't ever want them to feel disconnected.  I didn't want them to feel like they missed out on their lives.  And I know they still do.  We have a lot of family members that have still never met either of our girls (grandparents included) and it saddens me.  So I keep taking pictures, hoping to bridge the distance just a bit.  Hoping that I am building a connection between their lives.  A connection built frame by frame...day by day.  I will continue to take pictures of the mundane and the exciting and the extraordinary and hope that it is enough. It will never be enough, but I try.

And this is why I am saddened by the demise of my beloved Canon.  I will replace it - and quickly (especially since my Flip decided to die within the same week).  And for the next couple of weeks, I will probably be writing thousands of words... a poor substitute for what I could usually convey in just one picture.