July 7, 2010
time
I look at the old photos one way, a modern way with astute eyes that know about technology and the way it enhances reality, and I am disappointed, but then I look at them with my heart and I am joyous. I love the old shots that captured a day when I had my parents and Christmas was filled with Castle Grayskull , Fisher Price, Tinkertoys , big red firetrucks, cookies for Santa, and sleeping children with sweet dreams. Those photos are old and the resolution is not good, but the memories they cause are crisp and incredible. Time has erased all of the troubles that may have surrounded those long ago moments and leaves only an image of comfort and tenderness as I look at the young faces and try to find some lingering and forgotten memory hiding in the blurry background, something that might pull me in even closer.
Curiously, I think of the snapshots of this present life that will one day hide the bits of tenderness and confusion that are here with me now and they will remind me of these days that are seemingly brimming with joy represented in the young faces and the crisp and revealing backgrounds. Either way, the end result is soothing or poignant , looking back, to remember those days that have gently and swiftly carried you to these days. So, I end this rambling and this prodding of the past with a thought that has become cliché, but is, nevertheless, “timeless”:
waiting for Santa 1984
ps
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