As I have stated previously, I love Mid Century Modern design. The clothes, the sports cars, the music, the homes, and their decor. Along with that goes my love for all things Tiki. My enclosed front is filled with pineapples, palm trees, pink flamingos, and tiki idols that surround the amazing blonde bamboo furniture set I miraculously saved from a dumpster. All year long, it looks like summer, no matter how cold the temps may be. Among the decorations are picture frames. Some hold family photos, but one remains empty. I have made a promise to myself that this pineapple picture frame will one day hold the image of me and my true love, whomever he may be. I have vowed to myself, that this frame will remain empty until I find him or better yet, he finds me and we manage to live happily ever after in our MCM home.
I was at a family gathering today for my aunt who suffers from dementia. Like my father before her, she has loss many of her memories, but unlike my father, she remembers me. I find it amazing that even though I do not see her often, she knows who I am and calls me by name. Today may have been the last time I see her because they are moving her to a facility in another state so that a family member can overlook her care. We all brought along family photos to share and to make a memory book for her to take along. She had no idea why we were all there and they are telling her that she is going on vacation, so as not to upset her. I will miss our visits, but hopefully I will find a way to see her again in the coming months. Until then, I have our family photo albums to comb through and visit her and her siblings in a different way.
I have always loved photography. I was involved with the school newspaper and year books through high school and college. At one point, I entertained the idea of going professional, but I never had the guts to pursue it. One of the main reasons for my love of this art is that it’s magical how one can freeze a moment in time. Snap your fingers, that moment is gone and can never be duplicated, no matter how hard you try, no matter how close you come to replicating it, it is gone. However, a photo can capture that moment, freeze that memory in space and time and looking at that photo can evoke the same feelings as if one was still present in that moment.
Looking through the photos today, I saw many images of my mother, many of which I have never seen before. I saw a young woman, who looked so confident, stunningly beautiful and having fun making silly faces for some of the pics. Who knew that my mom had that in her, I certainly didn’t. Looking at all of my young aunts and their new spouses, very young pictures of my cousins, I could almost imagine myself in those moments. I could feel their excitement for being alive and creating fresh moments for themselves. The eerie pics were those of my grandparents, people I never had the honor to meet, let alone know. Their faces didn’t seem as excited to be there. My mother’s mother almost looks like she was thinking, “Is this really happening?” A later portrait looks like, “Yep, this is my life.” She doesn’t look sad or scare, just present. I suppose I could be reading into it considering my experiences with long term relationships, but I still find it interesting that I can feel so much just looking at these frozen moments in time.
Back in the day, I used to go to quite a few garage and estate sales. One of the most memorable ones was for a woman who had been a ballroom dancer. Her closet was filled with ballroom gowns and her dresser contained gloves and purses to complete her ensembles. It was from her sale that I purchased one of my best pieces, a blonde MCM side table, that for some reason, had been covered in wood grain contact paper. I had noticed the triangular shape of the legs and knew that there had to be a buried treasure beneath and to my delight, I was correct. I wondered, why someone would do that to such a beautiful piece? Yes, the tabletop had some wear and tear, but it was still glorious on its own. I suppose that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but still. Why would someone choose to hide its natural beauty with something so veneer?
My very dear friend who had accompanied me on my treasure hunts remarked that it was all very sad that these things were all that was left of a person. I thought very differently, I felt like it was giving me an opportunity to see into their lives and to try and figure out their stories. How wonderful when some photos would be a part of the sales, allowing me to see a piece of their history, a frozen moment in time, one that can never be duplicated and shouldn’t be. That moment has passed, it had its purpose, but it’s nice to have a memory of it so we may try to understand how this person came to be who they are, who they were, what their lives were like and why they chose to cover something so naturally beautiful with something so fake.
Even more remarkable to me are family films and videos. A few years back, I had a number of my family videos converted to DVD. Watching them again, took my breathe away, literally. I was stunned to see my sons as babies, to hear their voices to see their movements. So many moments have been washed away from my memory banks. If I choose to, I can watch them at will and relive those moments and try to put the pieces of my puzzle back together, but odds are the images would reveal something my mind choose to erase for good reasons.
Sadly, I do not have any videos of my mother. We didn’t have a camera until after she passed. I have no memory of her voice, so if she chose to haunt me, I’d be at a loss. I have lots of videos of my father and my children and for the most part, they give me comfort, but then again, there are not so good memories that come creeping in as well. It’s difficult to say which is the worse of the two evils, the lack of memories or the ones that come rushing back with a vengeance. My mind has gone so far to protect me that I literally have no memory of standing up to a friend’s wedding. It was at a very difficult time in my marriage and my mind has chosen to wipe the slat clean. She had to bring out photos of me standing up to her wedding to prove it to me. I stood there, dumbfounded at my lack of being able to remember actually doing it. I have watched the video and feel absolutely no connection to the event whatsoever. How crazy is that? What happened to me that day that my mind decided it was best that I don’t recall it at all? I suppose I will never know and maybe it’s better that way.
Moments, memories, I used to say to John “The Pilot” that I loved making memories with him. I do still hold dear many wonderful memories of our time together, but I choose to tuck away the photos and try not to dwell on the memories of something I cannot have, maybe never did have. It’s all still rather confusing, but I am grateful for the good memories. They are mine, whether they are accurate or not, they are mine to keep. They may all be lies, but they are the lies I chose to live with at the time and they made me happy. Like the wood grain contact paper someone decided to cover my blonde MCM side table with, at that time, in that moment, it made them happy. We all make choices, some that create great joy, others not so much, but those moments, those memories get frozen in time, whether it be through a photo or video or just the way our minds choose to keep them.
Staring at my empty picture frame, I wonder when it may be filled with the image of me and my true love, whomever he may be. I wonder how long it will remain empty, months, years, decades? It seems a horrible waste of a perfectly good pineapple shaped picture frame. It may sound conceited, but I’ve considered filling it with an image of myself, alone. Just like the logo for this website, I am the lone figure standing in shadow of her dream house, pink flamingos on the front lawn. Hmmm, maybe I should have an image of myself, sitting on my eternally summer front porch, dirty martini in hand, not in shadow at all. After all, I am making my own moments, my own memories and may be on a path to live happily ever after all on my own. Something to consider.
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