a stolen camera, a broken heart

May 2, 2008

oooooh dear.  i’m afraid someone in the world needed my nikon d80 camera with the external flash more than i did because it seems to have been stolen out of my car.  i hope the human being who took it is finding as much joy photographing their life as i have been over the last fourteen months, photographing my angelic son.  from toothless grins–oh how i used to love to kiss that baby’s gummy grin–to first steps to playground antics…i loved capturing all of it.  the silly and the sweet, the sleeping and the wild playing.  the first spring, the first fourth of july, the first fall leaves, the first snow and back again to the  all-too-brief bradford pears trees’ baubles of white confetti.  

every day without the camera feels so wrong.  caleb one-ups himself every single day.  just when i think he couldn’t get any cuter, well…you know.  and i have no proof, no record, no way of capturing these days that go by too quickly, these days i want to remember forever, these days i want plastered to the walls as i grow old.  every time he does something dizzyingly adorable, i try to commit it to memory, straining to remember the double chin that begs to be nuzzled, his funny little buddha belly, and that look of deep curiosity he gets when he finds a caterpillar in the grass.

i wish i could crystallize the image of my son today in the may sun, beneath a canopy of waving green hands, smiling his daddy’s wide-mouthed smile at me.  i would print it–real large–and frame it so i could always remember a time of blissful spring days at the playground, when it was just caleb and me, before the second baby came.  i would remember a time when everything was in balance–the sun in just the right proportion to the breeze, our past and our future eclipsed by the beauty of the present moment–a time when, without any effort at all, my heart was a place of prayer. 

 

 

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