Proof of life

One of my quirks, something that I have felt compelled to do, is photograph my life. I don’t have a ton of photos from my childhood, aside from special occasion or holiday photos.

I don’t want that to be the case for my kids. So I photograph them. All the time. It’s what I do. I’m behind the lens, documenting life, recording the minutaie of the day. The trips to the zoo, the cuts and scrapes. The sandboxes and gardens and the daily grind.

I record the people and animals that come into out lives and touch it. Even if they don’t stay. From the robin that nests in the car port every single freaking year, to Molly, our loving companion of 5 years now.

It all gets documented. And usually uploaded. Either to flickr or facebook, sometimes just sent through email, often times printed out, but always enjoyed. I spend some time every month or so, wandering back through my archives, here, there and everywhere, reliving the moments that have made my life.

My mother in law was talking to me recently about  her lack of photos with the other grandkids. To put it in her words, “Roseann is the one that takes the photos, so the photos usually feature her kids.” Which is true. I’m obviously not there for her interactions with the other grandkids, most of the time.

When I am, though, I make it my mission to record it. To document it. To make it known that on this day, whichever day it was, this happened. We were happy. We laughed. Made memories. Even if it’s just sitting around talking, or playing cards, it happened.

See?

Look at this photograph.

Proof positive of a life well lived.

Of life loved and appreciated.

Of life.

~ by xombie on June 12, 2009.