The saying goes that a picture is worth a thousand words. While it is true that you are more likely to remember a picture, you would need some context or explanation if you were not there when the picture was taken in order to better understand the event or circumstance. Even if you were there, your memory or experience would be different than mine. Words help provide a better understanding of the author and their frame of reference. Like our senses, the words and stories can bring the reader insight into the history, events and emotion of the author during that time. For me, this will be the project of 1,000 words. I will attempt to tell some stories with both pictures and words. A picture book, lol. Books are generally written about those people that have done extraordinary things, are famous or infamous, or those that have been a public figure. I have wanted to write my story but have wrestled with the why. Why do I feel a need to document and put out there some of my stories. Those that know me, know I can tell a story! I am generally long winded and unprompted…. but I do find it a good outlet to express myself. If I write a book, who will even want to read it? Does it matter if nobody reads it? I have figured out it is not about the readers, I would not be writing this for them, but rather for myself. It will be a form of therapy, self-reflection and learning more about myself through remembering. This “book” will be a journey of remembering all the events I can, starting with a picture. The stories behind the pictures, backstories and emotions that are remembered through this medium. I commit to being open and vulnerable and even may inadvertently offend some readers. Sorry, not sorry.
Other people that may appear in these pictures may have different memories or emotions – but of course they will. We all have different experiences from a single event. We have different relationships with ourselves and others in that moment. That should encourage us to be curious when someone remembers a shared event differently. Each time we can be vulnerable and share what we were thinking and feeling, it helps us understand each other better. It is not about “remembering it right” or not. It is not about making sure I include specific people in my words and memories so they feel included or are not offended. It is about listening to myself, honoring the memories and sharing. Sharing is caring, right? This will be a project to help me be more present in each moment, while I remember past events as well as making new memories each day. I will not be exact, producing 1,000 words for every picture, but I will provide my current thoughts, memories and yes, I may even spill some emotional baggage here.
I wanted to start with this picture. It will be the first of many I will write about. It is one of my favorite pictures from when I was a kid. I must have been somewhere between 2-3 years old. I love my smile. I can stare at this picture for a long time, and it just makes me feel like…like me. While hard to explain, it brings me back to my true self and my soul. I like myself when I see this picture. I like myself as a kid and this visual gives me a warm feeling. I also laugh because I know I was posed to have my chin resting on my hands. I was always too busy running around doing something to naturally stop and pose for a picture. I love my chubby cheeks and hands. I can see that mom put a barrette in my wispy blonde hair. I laugh because those never stayed in long when mom put them in my hair, it always seemed like a waste of time to put them in. By lunchtime the barrette would be out of my hair and in my pocket or lost forever. I have my mom’s nose, a small but adequate nose. My eyes are clear and seem to be telling their own story if you look closely enough. I was a happy kid and I laugh and smile a lot! I am sure I am looking at mom who was making me smile. She could always make me smile by the way she looked at me.
I know that mom bought a picture package at Sears, she found a coupon of sorts to get a discount on the pictures. I know this picture was from one of those sittings. Thankfully our family has lots of pictures throughout our childhood and even into adulthood. Throughout my life mom has been the documentarian. It was logical, she was present throughout my life. Not just at major events, but in the day-to-day little moments as well. I had relied too much on her to organize the memories of life events. If she were here now, I could ask her when this picture was taken. She would have this crazy way of backing into the year and month and remembering what the weather was like, etc. At the end of 5 minutes I would know everything about the timing and date of the picture and what had happened leading up to the picture, she would be able to recount it all! In some way, this may be a nod to my mom and her crazy memory skills. I wish I had asked her more questions, I wish I had asked her perspective of past events. I wish I had seen her as a woman and not solely as my mom. She must have had dreams and desires and goals and such. She always asked about mine and listened intently. I remember asking once or twice, but she brushed it off as we, her kids, were what she was dreaming about. She was alway helping us and hoping our dreams would come true. If I could go back in time, I would press her and not let her shrug off the questions.
Just Jill 