A Picture’s Worth…

Infrequently I have days when the ache inside my heart (the one that I use to love with, not the one that runs on a pacemaker battery) exceeds that of the physical pain in my body. Sunday was one of those days.

A few months ago, my daughter asked me how I would feel if she were to book a photo session with a pro photographer for herself and her boyfriend to mark their three year anniversary of being a couple.

Suzanna brought the request to me ever so gently, knowing that with me having been a family photographer for the years before my “retirement” I was going to be very sad about not being able to photograph the two of them myself as I had done several times before.

And I am. Terribly sad about not being able to do the session myself, but at the same time very happy that she’s come to value photos as a wonderful way to mark special occasions and the passing of time.

I of course gave her my blessing to go ahead, and she gave me the opportunity to contribute with discussions about her outfit, hair and make-up for Sunday. It sounds like she and her boyfriend had a wonderful time and I can’t wait to see the proofs.

Part of getting ready, for lack of a better term, for my death has been the exercise of determining what to do with all the photographs I’ve taken over the course of almost forty five years (I still have my first camera, a Diana that I received at age five). In my estimation, I’ve likely topped well over a hundred thousand images (it’s running about 50/50 landscapes to portraits) that need sorting. Now there’s a job nobody is offering to take off of my hands!

Although I’ve always preferred to be behind the lens, it makes me sad that there are so few photographs of me for Suzanna to show her own children years from now. Most of my childhood photos were destroyed (you can’t imagine how much I’d value having some of my yearly school photos, as horrid as they may have been).

I have a few photos that my high school boyfriend took (bikini photos, not exactly how I’d like my grandchildren see me solely represented in my school years!) but other than that just a handful of images. As designated photographer at just about every occasion it was rare that anyone took the camera from me.

I know that I’ve smiled for the occasional photo over the years, but unfortunately very few images to pass on to Suzanna. Hopefully in time a photo or two will make their way to her. 

Sunday was indeed tough to get through. It was also the two year anniversary of my husband telling me that he no longer wanted to be married to me. With all that has happened, I honestly can’t say if it’s been the longest two years of my life, or that it’s flown by; the answer changes on regular basis.

Incidentally just weeks before that, a photographer friend had offered us the gift of a family portrait session knowing that I wasn’t well, with the generous thought that my daughter and husband would appreciate having images of us together. I had put it off waiting for warmer weather (and for my face to deflate a touch more, a sorry side effect of one of my unsuccessful experimental treatments), but in hindsight any photos would be too painful to look at now. I suppose the universe was doing me a huge favour at the time.

You might wish to suggest to me that it’s not too late to have photos taken, and you’re right – it isn’t. My daughter and I regularly goof around with the camera phone. But it’s just not a look that I’m rocking right now though.

What I’d like to suggest dear readers in return is that you make an effort to capture your loved ones (and don’t shy away from a camera yourself either!) at every milestone, at every special occasion – but mostly in the moments in between. While life is being lived.

As for Suzanna, I know that when she shows her children the many pictures of her childhood self, she’ll tell them that someone who would have loved them very much was standing close by on the other side of the lens. I'd like to think that I’ll still be taking in the scene at those moments too.