A roll in the closet

Was digging out stuff from the dark, forgotten corners this morning and came across three old cameras. Each with a roll of film.

It wasn't a complete surprise to find them there. In the back, cobwebby corners of my mind I know that I have unearthed those cameras before, with their half shot rolls of film and being torn, I have pushed them back into the dark. Film has to live in the dark. Avoided decisions live in the dark.

Where does a person even get film developed these days? None of the local drugstores have those little envelopes anymore that you used to drop your roll into, fill out the information and two weeks later get back a slab of pictures, most of which prominently featured your finger in the corner of each photo. Or blur. Or over exposure. Or weird red eyes. Or people you don't know. But thinking there was something unseen on those rolls of film, something I might want someday, I put them back in the dark corner. Until today.

This morning, when I found them, I sat with them briefly and wiped the dust off with the palm of my hand. Every one had a dead battery, shutters locked tight. I see piles of old cameras at the thrift store and Value Village. What do people do with them? I could happily give the cameras away as junk, which they are. But the films. Those undeveloped films. What was on them? Who was on them? Pictures of Horsey Daughter as a beautiful, smiling baby? IS there a picture of me standing with my father? Are we smiling, do we have fishing rods? What about wedding pictures, maybe a friend is getting married? Maybe construction photos of the task and undertaking of building this house? What if all that stuff is on those films? Can I throw that away? I have not been able to part with the maybes, the possible faces and moments that have been and gone. And so for years now those cameras live in a dark closet corner.

But today I was ready. The beautiful baby, smiling and fishing with dad, weddings, life adventures in building, I have all those photos in the album of my head and heart. I have photos already, pressed into books, kept on a shelf, in the same dark closet as the cameras. Did the film in those cameras hold a secret? No. The secrets that I want to keep are all inside me already. I popped open the backs, dug out the rolls, and curled like black, shiny beetles, they lay exposed on the kitchen table. I don't know who or what I said goodbye to. But if they were important, I hold them close even without pictures. If they weren't important, then no photo in my hand would make them that way.

This made me gasp Uno. I would not have been able to do it.
You are brave and secure in your memories and experiences.
I would have gotten the films developed. I would have wanted to know the treasures themselves, not just the potential of them. I think I am still grasping and clawing for the things I have lost and would not have wanted the small chance to pass me by even though I may have been disappointed with the result.

Ok...I have to be honest. When I looked at the title of this post...film was not the first thing that popped into my mind

That being said...bravo to you Uno for having the guts to expose your film. I myself am guilty of hoarding film...although mine is in my freezer (my Granny always kept hers in the freezer), and I honestly don't know if I could be strong enough to toss them out. It's ridiculous really...like a stack of old items left in the far recesses of a dusty basement...they haven't been touched in years...no need for them has been felt....yet why can't I toss them out? Hmm. You definitely have my thoughts a-rollin. I should have developed them years ago...I have zillions upon zillions of pictures of my first born....only zillions of my second & third (twins)...but why is it that by the time our last child arrives, our snap-happy tendencies seem to significantly decline? My youngest, and only son...well I do wish I had more pictures of him. Could these frozen rolls hold countless memories of him as a baby? Growing up? I'm not sure. I should find out. And yet....here I am...simply talking about it.

I don't think I am as brave as you Uno....now to see if I actually develop these....or if they shall remain in their icy vault indefinitely.

Kiebler, I don't think what I did was brave, but my brand of practical.

Years ago I got tough with myself and said really, can I keep every single picture I have ever taken of my kid? No. So I sat down with a garbage bag and started tossing. It took a few days and I literally threw out pounds of photographs. But what I was left with were beautiful, meaningful, memorable and plenty to remind me of her life as an infant. They were pure gold. What I had before was a landslide of dirt that the gold was buried in.

Any one human can only absorb so much visual information and then it's just overload. I want to look at a picture/album and have it remind me of a special place or time or event or person. That happens with 50 (or whatever) lovely, well chosen and purposeful pics. IT does NOT happen with 4000 monotonous, bad and boring pics. I am not a scrapbooker, but did compile a few albums, some for me, some for her, that cover her life but I unburdened myself of these pounds of pictures in shoeboxes.

You know how some cultures think if you take their picture, you steal their soul? I think we have something different, as if discarding anything associated with a person is the same as discarding that person and what they mean/meant to our life. That is pure crazy thinking, to my mind. Giving away your mother's collection of horse hair doillies is NOT abandonning your mother! Yet we think it is. Throwing out a picture of your baby does NOT mean you love that baby less! It's just a picture! But we equate keeping all mementos with proving our honour and love.


So, feeling that whatever photos I have are enough, I am photographically satisfied, I was able to let those films go since I am comfortable with not knowing. If those pics had been that important, I would have had them developed years ago (when I still could!). Obviously they aren't that important, it was time for them to go. Not brave, just truthful with myself. I have enough..don't need anymore.