(no subject)
With most pictures I can remember my perspective of the person taking my picture and as well, see the picture now from their perspective. Even if the picture was taken years prior. I then get this strange feeling of being in two places at once. It is somewhat why I don't like my picture being taken, since it is a very strange feeling. Though when I was this young, I had problems with hearing and communicating as well, so my memory of that time was spotty at best. There are large holes and then my memory is as detailed as it is today, then another hole. This picture, I do not remember being taken at all.
What I do remember is the red overall that buckled in the front. I remember it well because it was exactly what I was wearing that day I lost my laser gun. The kind of kid's toy gun that you pull the trigger again and again and a object inside would spin faster and faster and shoot off sparks inside. Vroom, Vroom the red gun would vibrate in my hand as I sped it up faster and faster. Pretending to shoot any and everything. So attached to that gun, that at that age, I was rarely seen without it. Until that fateful day.
The scene was set. It was a beautiful day out, and the extended family were over. Outside party, inside party. Lots of food, lots of fun. And quite a few went to the beach, myself included. I remember having the laser gun with me up to that point, and then it just vanishes. I was having a fun time so I don't notice it gone for quite a while. We had since gone back and were enjoying a party with the other extended family as I looked around in futility for my favorite gun. At this point in life I couldn't really hear sounds and couldn't communicate with others so I was left there befuddled, trying to convey something that had no words, no meaning except the crudest interpretation a boy at that age with no sound could make to a mother whose instincts could tell something was wrong.
Eventually, it was figured out, though I'm not sure bending my index finger over and over as I pointed my arm toward stuff really helped too much to convey that I lost my laser gun. We looked everywhere, all over the place, outside, under stuff, on top of stuff. It truly seemed lost, and my feeling of loss grew.
Then someone had the idea to view a video tape my aunt Lisa had taken. I surmise this now, since back then I merely saw them gathered around the screen viewing the video of everyone. That's when I noticed it. As luck would have it, there was a very quick glance of myself in the background, as I ran from the edge of the water at the beach with the laser gun in hand. And remembered it exactly. And remember it now as I ran, and upon viewing the video. This, was the first time I got that feeling of being in two places moment.
At the beach, out of my red overalls and in my tropical beach trunks, I was about to go into the water with my brothers and cousins to cool off. But of course I had my gun, as I always did at that age, and I didn't want to get it wet and risk ruining it. I also didn't want to get sand in it and risk messing it up as well. So I found the nearest wooden pylon sticking out of the sand and set it on top.
I frantically pointed at the screen. The others had missed it! I started jumping up and down as I started hitting the screen. They eventually rewound the tape and then they saw what had happened. They took me back down there and I was delighted it was still there. My favorite laser gun. Vroom, Vroom, it vibrated in my hand as the sparks rattled around inside the semi translucent red tinted outer case.
The last I saw of it was after I was older and could talk and hear by then. I remember having it over at my cousins house and I remember giving it to him since I had so much fun with it when I was younger.