The Mommy Homilies

FAMILY MEMORIES : PHOTOS OPTIONAL
Mona Leyran-Ulaye

“Mom, were you able to take a picture of me on stage?”

“Uh-oh…Sorry. But don’t worry I took pictures of you and your friends while we were in the assembly area, remember?”

“Parents were taking pictures near the stage while we were dancing…Where were you?!!

So, how do I explain to a six-year old that there’s something about me and picture taking that just doesn’t seem to click anymore.

That particular day during my kid’s field demonstration exercises, I wasn’t all that keen on standing on one tiptoed foot with arms up to take pictures while arguing for a little bit more space so I can put my arms down after every shot. The last time I did that, aside from a bleeding toenail, I got a very good close-up shot of somebody’s hair and scalp, a breathtaking shot of the clear blue sky and a tight shot of somebody’s kid’s shoes on stage. Actually, after being pushed, shoved and elbowed to one side of the stage, I did manage to get a shot of my kid’s back as they were leaving the stage. Honestly, I’m not even sure it was him. It’s quite hard telling little boys’ backs apart because almost all of them have the same short hair…and the image I got was only visible when you scrutinize it using a magnifying glass!

I wasn’t always like this. Actually, I used to loooooove taking pictures of my kids, most especially. Maybe it was my way of trying to make up for something I had very few of, as a child. You see, going back to my childhood, I often wondered why I didn’t have much photos of myself during recitals, graduations and other events in my life. So, I spent rolls of film on them during special ocassions, Christmas presentations, Book Parades, Halloweens and every little chance I got to take a snapshot of them and placed them in their baby books and in photo albums.

That particular day, however, as all the other parents were gearing up to claim the choicest spots in front of the stage and click away with their digicams, cellphone cameras, mini camcorders, cameras with zoom lenses and all the other “hightechamatics” strapped around their necks, I decided to stay behind to watch my kid perform. It was then that I recognized the difference that lies between the photos from the camera and the images my eyes could see

Away from the lenses and the commotion, I was no longer concerned about elbowing my way to get the best vantage point for my pictures. From where I was standing, I simply focused my eyes and savoured every move my son made on stage. I saw him battling with his stage fright and struggling to get all the steps right down to the beat of the music. I felt he was really trying hard to make this his best performance ever. I felt his relief saw the glow on his face when it was all over. And as the crowd cheered and clapped, I was overwhelmed with the wild rush of emotions of pride and love for my six-year old little man on stage.

Photographs capture the moments, as the ads go. But there are just some things none of the photos or videos I took (no matter how high the megapixel) ever really captured as sharply and as vividly as my eyes did that day. They failed to sieze the spirit and the heart that goes with being a part of that moment (and not just taking pictures of it). My eyes saw beyond that shy, little smile and deeper into that little soul.

Well, maybe I’m just a lousy photographer trying to make up valid excuses for my lack of talent. I must admit, I’m just not cut out to be one of LIFE Magazine’s award-winning photojournalists whose snapshots can tell stories without words. If somebody asks me how my son’s field demonstration exercises went…Well, I’ve got better stories to tell than pictures to show. As for my son, all I told him was, “Honey, I was there. I was taking pictures of you with my eyes…”

(For keeping family memories alive, I suggest you give it a try some time. And guess what? It doesn’t require an album, player, printer, film, memory card or batteries and you can play it back in your mind over and over and over and over…)