The newscasters last night on our local channel reminded everyone that daylight savings time ends this coming weekend.  One of the comments was ” the days will be so short!”

Where have they been for the past month?  The angle of the sun had noticeably changed at the end of August.  I know it was a gradual thing up till then, but my perception is that it seemed rather abrupt.  This year I decided that I would purchase a “light box” to help me get past this transition.

I like to think I notice things.  I know that everyone notices things to a lesser or greater extent.   I assume people key into those things that matter to them.  That may be a wrong conclusion, and I certainly don’t want to accuse people of being unobservant.  I come from a family of “observers” and I will say that some of the things we notice really don’t matter much and seem a bit esoteric at times.  Needless to say we leave folks scratching their heads.

While looking through some of the photos that friends took during the wedding and reception I was struck by what they photographed.  Photos are a wonderful thing and have changed so many ways in which we have come to know our world.  Many photos were of the “highlights” of the day – the dances and the cake cutting, but many were much more personal.  I love that many included a large view of the people in the background, their expressions and interactions.

I am always startled when I see myself in photos.  I am much older than I thought, but that is another story.

The professional photographer seemed to be everywhere at once that day.  We are waiting to see what he captured.  He teased me the other day with one glorious photo of my daughter with her husband.  They radiate joy.

The wedding was on the dreaded day – Saturday.  For seventeen weeks it has been a difficult day to face.  The wedding certainly changed the complexion of that day with joy.

There are no photos to speak of  from the gathering held in our son’s honor.  There are some taken of his friends, but not many.  Our son was cremated, and I wish now that I had a picture of the table we put together to display the items that were icons of his life.  There is no way to incapsulate him really, but we tried.

I do have lots of pictures of him growing up, and recently he allowed more to be taken.  Usually if he knew we were focusing on his face he stuck his finger up his nose.

While my daughter was in the chair having her hair done by the hairdresser to decide how she would wear it for the wedding, she when I focused on her face, mocked her brother. “I should do this.” she said as she stuck her finger in her nose. Too late she realized she had hit a trigger with me.  But I understood it was just because she loved him and missed him too. I wish I had taken that picture anyway.

I think our mind is kinder in the processing of the photos of the the things we notice than the camera is.  They perhaps are not as sharp or distinct in some ways.  Perhaps the edges are blurred and softened a bit.   The image however remains.

There are images I wish I could ablate from my mind.   We all have those too.

I find as I write more and more about my family, my children, that  I can shake more dust off the images that I have collected in my lifetime.  Memories and images flood back in at times, unbidden, but I am learning to embrace them and consider them for what they are wrinkles and all.

We live in a time when pictures and images fly across the internet and through the phones.  We know instantaneously what that person saw at that given moment.

When our son fell, I tried to think of what he perceived.  I know he was probably confused about what was happening, startled and perhaps his adrenaline rushed. I think he saw the rocks and the sky and if there were trees above ,their green against that blue, blue sky.  I hope he was not afraid.   I do not want to picture him in fear because he was in all other ways so very brave.

My favorite picture is one taken by him and his sister when they were in Berlin together- just the two of them.  She is leaning in towards her brother and he is grinning.   I picture those faces most times.

As for the wedding  we will have lots of pictures  to remember it with.  It was an amazingly beautiful wedding.  It makes me  sad to know that our son’s face is not among those in the crowd.  Had he been there I could have asked him what he thought of it, what were the things he noticed.   He would have shrugged and said “it was nice.”


About pathfinder

Artist, Writer, Walking wounded.
This entry was posted in Coping with the Death of a Child, Family, Marraige and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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