As I write this, I think of my camera. I love my camera. It was a gift from my dear husband one year. An early Valentine’s gift, I think. He just came home with it and when I opened it, I was thrilled. Thrilled not just for the camera itself, but because of its color. It is red. I was really into the color red at the time. I had just gotten a new phone at the time and it was a red flip phone, very cool…
Well, as any electronic idiot would do, I took my camera to my son-in-law (he was just dating my daughter at the time) and had him set it up. He is a photographer and a very good one. He set all the ‘stuff’ on it, and even took a few photos with it to make sure it was up and running right.
I took many pictures with it and carried it with me when I could. My shots are not the greatest, but I like being able to capture images that I think are important. Mostly, I take pictures of people. I know I will remember sights and sounds, but I love looking at the people I find adventures with. People are my heartbeat. They are the ones whom I connect with, laugh with and love.
A few years ago my younger sister and my niece came to visit. We were still living in San Diego at the time and we played tourist while they were there. At the end of their visit, we three (my sister,niece and I ) travelled to Chicago to attend another niece’s engagement party. I took my camera and snapped away at the family there. Aside from the tremendous heat and humidity that weekend, it was a delightful adventure.
I came home from my travels and set my camera on the table and settled back into my regular life. Regular life, especially after a trip, involves laundry. So, the day after my return I grabbed a load and decided to wash my table-cloth along with what I had in my hands. I scooped the table-cloth off the table and went about my business. In time I went to switch the laundry over from the washer to the dryer. Picking up the wet items I kept hearing a thump. Not good. Really not good when at the bottom of my washing machine was my camera. My beautiful red, wet camera. I screamed! Literally I did. I had not downloaded any pictures from my recent trip. I also had kept wedding pictures of my daughter’s wedding on it, just in case I lost the ones on my computer. I stood staring at my camera and knew I had lost something I truly enjoyed.
I refused to buy another camera. I didn’t have the heart for it. I chided myself for not being more careful. I dried off the camera as best I could. About a month later, I lovingly placed my ruined camera back into the box it came in and put it in a drawer.
Shortly after we moved cross-country, I was laying in bed one morning and I thought of my camera. I sighed and thought of it laying in that drawer. Out of the blue, I thought I should recharge the battery and see what would happen. I got up, got the box and removed the battery and started to charge it. Amazingly, it worked!
There is still a residue of lint in my camera. There is a blotch on the viewing screen that looks like a water spot. The pictures are not always clear, but it works. I love my camera and I love that, although it is inanimate, it knew I cared enough to want it to work. I love that it resurrected itself and now I once more enjoy it.
Sometimes, isn’t that how our life is? We get drenched in circumstances and we lose our battery life. We place ourselves back into a drawer and begin to feel like our purpose in life is over. Given time, though, our batteries are recharged and we become not only useful, but important again. We resurrect ourselves to new places and people, taking and sharing moments that will be etched into hearts and minds. Thanks for stopping by today, may this day be a valued snapshot in the heart of people you hold dear. DAF