In this age of smart phones, tablets, and DSLRs we probably have more photos of our kids from one year than from my entire childhood.
And some believe it’s too easy. That we’ve lost the art of photography and the interwebs is cluttered with selfies, poor quality phone snaps, and Instagram photos of our food. That we’re spending too much time on our phones or behind our camera taking photos than actually living the moment and maybe that’s true for some people.
So let me tell you what happened to me this week and why taking photos ALL THE TIME is important to me.
You may know that in June of 2012 we welcomed a foster son into our home. He had a chronic illness and had a strict regimen of medications and feedings. He was in our home about 9 months. At that time, our oldest was 2 and I felt pretty crazy most of the time. We had 2-3 doctor visits each week on top of his scheduled CPS visits. Then, the last 4 months of his stay he was throwing up 2-3 times a week for reasons we still need answers to. Oh, did I mention I was pregnant with killer morning sickness, too? There was no fun being had in this house. I didn’t pick up my camera for an entire month and when I did it was only for a few snaps. It sat on a shelf in our bedroom closet.
There was no beauty. There was no art.
It’s been a year since we said goodbye to our son and the truth is I forget what he looks like. That’s just our reality. When you don’t have them walking and talking around you everyday it’s easy to forget some of the details. There is only small percentage of people in this world that know he even existed as a part of our family. It’s still hard to introduce my two boys and not our middle son. It’s still hard that I am not currently the one he calls mom.
This week my husband finished putting together all the video footage we have of him. It’s almost too much to take. Tears are welling up now and I’m not even watching it. Sometimes I forget we were foster parents. Time is funny like that. You start wondering if your reality was actually just a dream. For me, the random photos I took (on all of my devices) remind me that he was real. The grainy photos of us snuggled in bed remind me that he loved it there the most. When I took a selfie his crazy hair didn’t fit in the frame. The blurry ones remind me he never ever never sat still. And the naked tummies, one milky and one chocolate, remind me of the wonderful bond of brotherhood no matter the circumstances. I know he’s grown and changed so much since being in our home but those photos reflect the best things about our time with him.
And they remind me that he will forever be ours.
Your great life is really happening. Take photos to remember it.
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