Camera Roll
Have you looked at your camera roll recently? We, or maybe I, use my phone for snapping pictures of everything from coupon pricing to recipes, work notes, to do items, and precious memories of beach days and dreamy sunsets.
It seems a little crazy for someone born in the 1970s, that most of us have a camera in our hand or within arm’s reach for the better part of every day.
There were so few pictures of me growing up that for a period in my early teens (because of a lack of photo evidence to prove otherwise) my sisters had me convinced my place in the family was secured by a seemingly random adoption. Somehow, I believed my parents voluntarily took in a third daughter, only to be followed a year later by a home-grown fourth baby girl. Sisters can be simultaneously protective and brutal, much like a bulldog protecting its food.
There are a total of ten photos of me before reaching school age. The State of Michigan school system jumped in at that point and started keeping proof of identity photos in my official record to further ensure that my place in our sleepy little town wouldn’t go wholly unnoticed.
This got me thinking that I have taken more photos in one summer than there are family photos documenting our early years.
How extremely fortunate we are to be able to capture the first time we meet a new grandbaby. Not just one photo, but a documentary of the entire trip. His sweet smiling face and the beautiful way his momma and daddy light up when they talk to him. We don’t get to visit enough, but the photos keep my grandma heart bursting with love.
Aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins gather, and more photos are taken to cement what has become a tradition of wood cutting and dinner with family. Across generations we see the photos. Bittersweet snapshots of people we have sadly lost too soon and would give anything to have just one more conversation with.
At a moment’s notice we are able to digitize the smallest twinkle of an eye lest we forget to lock it into the confines of our fragile memory. My camera roll is filled with beach days, Lady Bug golf cart rides, new playgrounds, sunsets, camp days and on and on.
These digital memories will someday provide evidence of a playful Gummie (my grandma name) in her earlier years, first Homecoming dances, remembering Gummie and Papa's house and the little place under the stairs that was strung with Christmas lights and filled with couch pillows.
Technology can be both a blessing and a curse. Used in moderation and at the appropriate time we can use pictures to document our ever-changing and growing lives and families. Still photos and videos of our busy toddlers and pre-teen awkwardness will spark conversation in the years to come.
I have four large totes of printed photos in my basement. About half of the pictures are of people I recognize. The rest are photos that have been passed down from my mother's side of the family. Unfortunately, the names and faces in these photos have been lost to time and memory. Most of them have no date, no name, no location, making it impossible to identify the people in them. Picture taking 75 to 100 years ago was a big event, why didn’t anyone think to identify who was in the picture?
The digital convenience of today won’t result in bins full of snapshots of people you don’t know. However, without proper curation, the names that accompany the smiling faces will be gone before we know it.
Take some time to upload your photos and store them with names and dates. Do this so when your family is reminiscing in years to come about how wonderful Aunt Lorraine was and Grandma & Grandpa Marcotte bore 15 children, they can put a name to their faces. So, your children’s, children’s, children will know how we treasure family and time together.