Mundane; tragic
Our dryer is acting up. When you push the button, it groans like it wants to come on, but it won't. So I have a load that's been damp for two days that I'm giving up on and rewashing because it's become sour, and another load that's only been damp about 24 hours that I'm hanging about the house. There are pants and shirts along the backs of the kitchen chairs and socks and napkins on top of the dishes on the drain board.
I'm working on a video project, too. I'm editing together clips of my mom from the silent movies my family made between 1980 and 1986. Much of this footage is boring babies and children running around and opening Christmas presents, but I'm mostly just mining for shots of my mom. Not as easy to come by. Attention parents who are photographing and taking video of your children: be sure to get some good shots of yourselves, because when they grow up, your kids will want to look at you when you were the young caregivers they remember.
My aunt has said that it was difficult to watch the video of my mom that I posted last August because my mom is so young and happy in that one. In my scouring, I've noticed that in the videos after Nick died, her smiles seem so forced. Even a couple of years later. I'm not saying she wasn't happy the next Christmas or Easter or birthday or whatever. But she was different. She was always different.
Will I always be different?
Here are two videos not containing my mom. They are from visits to my dad's family in Ohio in the summer of 1983 and the spring of 1984, respectively. My cousins and I run around the yard and act silly. My dad teaches us funny songs.
I'm working on a video project, too. I'm editing together clips of my mom from the silent movies my family made between 1980 and 1986. Much of this footage is boring babies and children running around and opening Christmas presents, but I'm mostly just mining for shots of my mom. Not as easy to come by. Attention parents who are photographing and taking video of your children: be sure to get some good shots of yourselves, because when they grow up, your kids will want to look at you when you were the young caregivers they remember.
My aunt has said that it was difficult to watch the video of my mom that I posted last August because my mom is so young and happy in that one. In my scouring, I've noticed that in the videos after Nick died, her smiles seem so forced. Even a couple of years later. I'm not saying she wasn't happy the next Christmas or Easter or birthday or whatever. But she was different. She was always different.
Will I always be different?
Here are two videos not containing my mom. They are from visits to my dad's family in Ohio in the summer of 1983 and the spring of 1984, respectively. My cousins and I run around the yard and act silly. My dad teaches us funny songs.