Photographs

Last week, I stayed up too late. It always happens when Robert is gone, I get caught on the computer researching or surfing and before I know it, 1 a.m. has come and gone.

I discovered a site called pbase, through a friend. (mermaid number 3's husband) It is a photography site and the pictures are pretty remarkable. Her husband has gallery quality photos posted. Although I have been blessed with almost every other artistic talent, photography has always eluded me. There are very detailed images of flowers, close up pictures of instruments and exquisite shapes and colors. But the pictures I return to over and over are the people. The people I care about.

Often while traveling, I took pictures of landmarks and scenery. Most were just mediocre, some the scenery was stunning..but they rarely made it to the pages of any scrapbook. The ones that we keep, cherish, protect and pour over are people. The people that made a difference. Family members that are gone. Friends that live far away and that we long to see again. Snapshots and portraits that remind us of our babies, our youth. Robert and I laugh at our similar family photos with both of our dads wearing plaid leisure suits and those hideous black-coke-bottle glasses.

why do we seem to love photos so much? Why is scrap-booking so popular? It is a little piece of time we can hold in our hands. A visual representation of a memory. Photos are important because they are history, our history. A time machine in a turn of the page and a trip down the hall.

Photographs

I have a picture on the wall
In the foyer down the hall
And the faces there are smiling back at me

Family pictures, funny hair
Friends and memories waiting there
For me to travel back in time and see

And find my way back home
Through sepia and Kodachrome
And see the way that life use to be

All those faces and those names
Funny how the times have changed
But You will know as time goes by
You will be
With me on my wall of memory

I have a picture in a book
Just a snapshot that I took
When a little boy was only 3 days old.

Now he wants to drive the car
and throw fast balls in the yard
Jumping in before he even looks to see.

how to find His way back home
Through sepia and Kodachrome
And see the way his life use to be

all those faces and those names
Seems nothing remains the same
but he will know as time goes by, he will be
With me on my wall of memory.

There is a picture someone took
That is hanging on the hook
Of a younger girl with eyes that look like mine….

I’d like to go back there in time
Tell her, that life turns out just fine
Just be strong, hold onto love, and she will find.

Her way back home
Through sepia and Kodachrome
And see the way that life use to be
All those faces and those names,
Funny how life still feels the same
She will know as time goes by she will be
Living on the page of history….
Up there on that wall of memory.