A thought
More Than You Know
A keepsake, a memento, precious and fragile things, need special handling…
Let me get a little personal here. Well, this is my person blog and while I do post the occasional thought and sometimes a journal entry of sorts, I don’t typically share specific details. What can I say, for me, I love my private life. It’s very important to me which is why my intimate circle is kept small.
Yes I am one that holds on to things for sentimental value as well as mementos of times past. It wasn’t until recently that I threw out my box of high school notes from old friends. Yes, I am that girl. And while I threw out notes, there are things that I hold on to. Pieces of time that make me smile and warm my heart.
Today, however, I’m going to share a little something and give a little detail. I was speaking with a dear friend about how what is meant for you finds its way and sometimes in the most random of circumstances. You see, I recently lost my grandfather and with his passing, a very cherished item has found its way to me. It’s one of a few things that have been brought to me over the years by the universe. Tangible pieces of memories that do not necessarily hold any financial value but the sentimental value is priceless.
It’s of those very special pieces that I write of today. With the passing of the last patriarch in my family, in my possession now are items I cherish. How they found their way to me shows me that what’s meant to be will find its way. Maybe you have found yourself on the receiving end of synchronicities such as these in your lives. So yes, let me share with you.
Little Miss Sunshine. One of my dad’s cameras. The last one he was using during the time of his passing in 2015. I remember when he passed, discussions were had about photos, real estate, etc., etc. I didn’t care about any of it save for his camera. For me that is the only belonging of his that I cared for. No, it’s not a fancy camera. It’s an entry level Nikon DSLR but to me it meant the world. After all, dad is the one that opened my eyes to photography so to speak.
He bought me first 35mm and taught me how to load the film. I couldn’t even guess how much he spent in developing all those sometimes horrendous captures of a 12 year old girl going click happy. I loved him for it. He was great behind the lease himself. He could center his subject shooting straight from the hip without even looking through the view finder. I mean, wow.
He was my biggest fan and supporter, always routing for me and pushing me. Even when he was sick in the hospital, he was sharing my site and page. So when he passed, it was his camera for me. Sadly, with family disconnects, I was unable to get Miss Sunshine initially. To be honest, I didn’t think I would ever find her.
Yet here she is and she shoots like a dream. I don’t take her out often on account of my not wanting anything to happen to her. But there are special occasions and she comes with so that I take him with me.
I have a few of his belt buckles and our family photos but I also did manage on holding on to his leather jacket. After all, it’s leather and back in his wrestling days, he was BadNews. I don’t wear it. It’s too big and I do live in South Florida so the weather really doesn’t call for it but I have done a shoot with it because hey, I am a photographer and I just had to.
Now, I lost my dad’s father when I was younger and as I mentioned earlier, I recently lost my maternal grandfather. The OG. It was sudden yet he was older and it was a thankfully a peaceful passing at home. Still, the patriarchy is gone but not their memory. One of which is the man and his old school caps. He always wore one for the most part. Especially in his older years. Which is why, when gathering his belongings for the funeral services, I set aside one of those hats for me. I love hats. Fedoras, Trilby’s, even baseball caps and beanies, so it was my memorabilia of choice to take with me.
On to the randomness of the universe and how what’s yours comes to you. Here’s where it gets interesting. My mother and I were getting his things together and I reach for his ring. It’s a ring he always wore and I hadn’t really put much mind to it but as I’m holding it and sliding it on to my finger, my mom says to me, “that’s your dad’s wedding ring”. I smiled. As it turns out, when my parents split, my dad gave the ring back to my mom which in turn gave it to my grandfather. This man has been wearing it every day for almost 40 years!
Now it’s with me. My dad’s wedding ring, my grandfather’s time, on my finger. My precious because not only is was it one but two of my patriarchs. Two of the men whose blood flows in my veins. In a sense, they are both together and I find myself comforted each time I look at it.
