Snapshot, Don't Take my Picture

It's been said that a picture is worth a thousand words. I tend to disagree. To me, a picture represents a wasted memory. A time spent trying to capture a moment on film rather than enjoying the moment itself.

Growing up an only child and raised by a single parent, my mother and I had the luxury of simply picking up and moving whenever the mood struck. For this we were labeled "Gypsies". From hopping on a train, plane, or automobile, we tended to never stay in one place for too long. Because of this I grew up realizing that I always had to take a minimalistic approach to life. Which meant not hanging on to an exorbitant amount of "stuff". Everything I owned growing up could easily fit in one suitcase and one box.We traveled light and traveled often. I sometimes asked my mother why we didn't have all the "normal things" other families had such as family heirlooms, photo albums and keepsakes. Her answer was always the same. She simply stated that we pass through life so briefly that we need to create memories as we travel down the road of existence and not be bogged down by trying to capture the present or hang on to the past. As a child, instead of sitting down with my mother and flipping through old family photos, she would regale me with fascinating tales of her childhood and of my grandmother and the rest of the family. We would laugh, cry and at the end of the night, I always came away with a sense that I was there. With my mom when she was 5 y/o and tried to kiss a boy for the first time and instead sat on a bee in front of the boy and ran around the schoolyard holding her bottom. Or the times my grandmother would rock me to sleep when I was baby. By hearing these stories I didn't need a photo to look at, instead I could close my eyes and, as I listened to mother, I could see it all happening as if it were happening at that very moment.

If you were to look at the bottom of my closet today or under my bed, you won't find any pictures. Nor will you find any photo albums. But if you could look into my heart or see into my soul, there you will find a treasure chest full of memories of days gone by, people who have been loved and lost, and you'll see me. The 5 y/o little boy going to the Zoo for the first time in San Diego and the young man that I am today. So next time you are inclined to ask me to take a picture, stop for a moment. Instead, walk with me, talk with me, and above all, let's create a memory together that will never fade and that will stand the test of time.