This may age me, but I miss pictures that you can hold in your hand and put in a photo album. Pictures you can send in the mail or pass around at a family gathering. Pictures on your phone just aren’t the same.
I have my Baby Book my Mother gave me years ago. I have photo albums from my childhood, high school, college. I have photo albums filled with pictures of my life. Old friends, vacations and so much more. I still love to look at them occasionally or pull them out and share them with friends and family and reminisce about each memory attached to each picture.
When my son was born, I took a picture of him and anyone else involved in our day every single day for years! I have them all in photo albums. I made duplicates and sent them to my Mom and Dad and Aunts and Uncles so they could keep up with this amazing kid! I imagine my son will never want to store them in his own home, but I love them still. Some day someone will find them in a thrift shop (Or a dumpster outside my home when my son’s cleaning it out!) and get a hoot out of “those old pictures”…how weird we dressed…how ridiculous our haircuts were!
They say “A picture is worth a thousand words”, meaning that complex and sometimes multiple ideas can be conveyed by a single still image, which conveys its meaning or essence more effectively than a mere verbal description. I think a picture is worth a thousand words AND a memory that leads to more memories. And a picture on your phone or computer? Well, it’s just not like dropping that film off to be developed and reliving all the moments that made you snap that picture when you pick up those images all printed on shiny paper and hold them in your hand! And you won’t lose those pictures forever if you drop your phone in the potty. (Yup, I did that!) Or you suffer a hard drive failure. (Yup that happened, too!)
The truck. It belonged to my Grandpa. It’s parked in the yard of my Grandparents old home. I snapped a picture on my phone and then PRINTED IT! I won’t put this one in a photo album. I’ll hang it on my wall and think of all the rides I took with Grandpa in the many trucks he owned throughout the years. Which will lead to memories of sitting up with my Grandma at night sorting through buttons and drinking milk and sugar with a touch of coffee. And back to my Grandpa and how he taught me to drive his tractor and I crashed it through a fence and in a ditch and he wasn’t mad at me at all. And then to my Uncle Ted who taught me to ride a motorcycle before my feet could touch the gear shift. And my Aunt Judy who threw the most fabulous parties and always included me like I was so very grown up…but would only serve me mocktails until I was of legal age. And to my Uncle Joe who always had a “bag of money” for me whenever I would visit, had the goofiest jokes ever and would participate in any backyard game my cousins and I created. And back to my Grandpa who would put a salt shaker in his overall pocket when we’d go out to pick the garden so we could eat tomatoes off the vine. And a million other memories will come flooding back to me that will include my Mom and Dad, my three sisters, my numerous Aunts and Uncles who were and are always there for me. One picture. A million memories.