The most important events or times in our lives, whether good or bad, tend to make a lasting impression on us. They are often so memorable that they leave us with a detailed, picture-perfect recollection, a still frame in our mind. Our minds are powerful things. In them we keep a catalog of still frames that spans an entire lifetime. Unfortunately, our memories eventually fade, some more than others, and for some more than others. So, is this why we take photographs and print them, putting them in albums and scrapbooks? Do we do this so we have tangible proof of the people we’ve known, the places we’ve been and the things we’ve done? Do we feel that a picture on a piece of paper is more likely to withstand the tests of time than the picture in our mind’s eye?
I love pictures. Ask anyone, especially my boyfriend, who sweetly obliges when I request a photo op. I have boxes and albums and frames full of pictures. Collages hang on my wall, and scrapbooks line my bookshelf. A large portion of my hard drive is taken up by photo files. Among my collection are pictures of me and my family throughout the years, friends from camp, youth group, school, vacations, preschool, elementary school, middle school, high school, college, and post-college, important events and ordinary moments.
So, why do these pictures mean so much to me? In no way do they replace or overshadow my memories, but a picture captures a moment so clearly. Sometimes looking at things frozen in time jogs my memory, and reminds me of something I had since forgotten. If my memories are like an outline of the past, photos fill in the details, make the colors more vivid, the smiles brighter, the scenery more beautiful. No matter how good our memory, we cannot remember everything on our own. As much as we pass on to future generations, something is bound to get lost in translation. I treasure the photos I have of my grandparents and parents as children and young adults, before I was born. For obvious reasons, I don’t have any memories of them at those stages in life, so pictures are my only way to see the past. The same goes for pictures of myself as a baby and toddler. I didn’t get to see myself grow up.
Many of my friends live far away, and seeing their faces smiling back at me, in a photo taken at some happy time when we were together, makes me miss them a little less. Photos of friends and family who are no longer with me make me sad at times, but also remind me that I will always have those people in my heart. To come home after a long day of work and see pictures of the people that mean the most to me makes me smile.
Pictures, like our memories, may fade with time. But, I’m going to keep taking pictures of the ordinary and the extraordinary moments in my life, because I enjoy them. And, if my memory happens to fade first, at least I’ll have a backup plan.
A small sample of my photo collection can be found here.
