I am a “crazy picture taker.” No one would call me a photographer, but they would say I’m “picture happy.”
We have moved so many times, left so many places and people that we love. Photos are often the only remnants we have—of people, of places, of memories.
Sometimes, these powerful, still pictures even evoke memories of sounds and smells long gone. When I see images of some of my favorite marketplaces in Morocco, I can still hear the merchants yelling out their best prices for oranges. I can still smell the exotic spices and the distinct odors of animal manure. Good and bad memories flood my mind!
“We take photos as a return ticket to moments otherwise gone.”
—Anonymous
I can physically return one day to that same marketplace; however, I can no longer return to that specific moment. Unless, I have a photo to help jog my memory.
Last night, we had another “goodbye party.” It was one of three in the past 5 days. Now, that’s a lot of emotion! There is absolutely nothing fun about “goodbye parties,” “farewell parties,” “sending off parties,” “going away parties.”
Great Intentions
I had great intentions of being “picture happy” last night and getting tons of photos of our favorite people (who have become like family to us). My intention was to take pictures of our boys with their best friends and my husband and I together with our dear friends. I keep thinking that perhaps one day I will actually get around to making a photo album for us to browse through from time to time.
Last night, I had even double-checked that all of our cell phones were charged. We had three of them with us, so plenty of devices and memory to fill.
Rather, I got lost in the moment.
I got busy getting food out and preparing the table, mingling with guests, chatting, eating . . .
Lost in the Moment
I got lost in the moment.
From time to time, I would have a fleeting thought . . . “don’t forget to take pictures” . . . but I didn’t heed the thought long enough to take action.
A dear friend had offered to host the party for us. Sitting outside on the patio by her swimming pool, thunder began to boom in the far-off distance. As the storm approached, we got all the kids out of the water. Raindrops began to fall from the sky, and guests began to pack up their belongings.
Some of us gathered under the awning and in the garage, waiting for the storm to pass. Most, however, ran towards their vehicles and departed.
The Unexpected Storm
After 10-15 minutes, the storm passed, and the sun came out. Only a few friends remained at the party. Somewhat disappointed with the diminished crowd, the kids jumped back into the swimming pool while the adults piled more food on their plates and went back out on the patio for further conversations.
It was a beautiful night, although it had an abrupt and unexpected ending.
Last night, I tossed and turned. I woke up with the sudden realization that I had completely forgotten to take pictures! I captured a few moments on my cell phone, but not all those that I had planned to take.
“We take photos as a return ticket to a moment otherwise gone.”
I can’t redo last night’s “goodbye party.” There is no possibility of a reenactment of the scene. There is no going back. The moment is gone.
However, the images, the pictures, the people, the words . . . will remain etched in my heart and mind forever . . . or until my mind gets too old and foggy and the memories begin to fade.
—The Cultural Story Weaver
Let’s Weave Cultures!
Have you ever had a similiar experience where you forgot to take pictures at an important event—now, all you have are your fading memories? Other than photographs, what are other ways to recall a journey or special moment?
We invite you to tell us your own cultural stories and global adventures . . . as you engage with the world, breaking down barriers, building bridges, and “weaving cultures!” Write about them in the comment box below.
This has happened before to me too, forgetting to take pictures with a friend. But, our memories still remember what we talked about and will not forget.
It’s amazing how many images, sounds, smells, feelings, and tastes our memories can contain. The mind is a beautiful photo album that only begins to fade with age and time.