I remember the most random things about my parents from my childhood. Like, their ritual of blasting Linda Ronstadt's "It's So Easy" on the record player to rouse us from our beds on a Saturday morning. Mom and Dad crying when they found out that Stan Rogers had died. Singing in unison to Paul Simon's Graceland while driving to highland dance lessons, in our gold Toyota Tercel.
It's so weird, the things I remember when there are so many things that I have forgotten. One distinct memory from the age of 7 or 8, I remember looking around at all the other moms at school and thinking my mom was the prettiest. She was so slender (no "front-bum" like my teacher had), and when she put on a bit of mascara and lipstick, her eyes lit up and her smile was brilliant! I hoped, then, that I would inherit some of her good looks one day.
I wish there were more pictures of her from that time. Sadly, at that age, my mom's life was so busy. She had four kids, all close in age. Film was expensive. We never had a formal family portrait, let alone her sitting for portrait by herself! Mom was very critical when she looked in the mirror, and only saw her flaws. I remember the comments she made about herself. She hid from the camera. There are so few images of her from that time. Most of them are snapshots, and probably all of them include at least one of her children.
Now that I am the age she was back then, and I have three kids of my own, I need to remember to exist in photographs. Even though I feel like I could lose a few pounds, wrinkles are starting to appear, and I will never have Jennifer Aniston's jawline, my kids think I'm the best! They never notice my muffin top or baggy eyes. They see all the good things about me! They will love to have photos of me at this age, just the same as I wish I had photos of my mom at every age. And, I must admit, that when I look back at old photos of myself - ones where I thought I looked hideous at the time- I think, hey, I look pretty good there. It's all relative.
Another random memory I have is looking at a hand-painted photo of my Grandma. It was back in the days of black and white film, when the photographer would paint a bit of colour on top of the print to give the subject rosy cheeks, and in Grandma's case, blue eyes. She looked so young and pretty. Maybe it was taken around the time she got married? I'm not sure, but I loved that she had it. I loved that, as her granddaughter, I could see what she looked like before I was born. Especially now that she is no longer with us.
I'm curious. Do you feel like your mother has some "missing years"? Are you someone who is hiding from the camera? Share this story with anyone you think needs to hear it. #ExistInPhotos. If not for you, for your loved ones, who only see your best parts.
shoot.print.love.laurie
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