Circa April 24, 2011
It’s finally here! Words cannot express the level of nerdiness I am feeling for my new camera! I have been waiting so long to finally buy it that I came home skipping and squealing and wrapping my arms around hubby for the combined Mother’s day, anniversary, birthday present. I am the proud mommy of a Canon EOS Rebel T2i and we are going to have a glorious love affair over the years. I know it.
I should probably give you the back story about why this camera is such a big deal. My uncle was a photographer. No, he wasn’t some famous dude who accolades from world-renowned photo critics, but in my eyes, he hung the moon. He was my Ansel Adams. He always, and I mean always, had a camera or a guitar in his hand. I’d say he is responsible for over half of the photos ever taken of our family. After he died, we found thousands upon thousands of negatives from the photos he had taken over the years, as well as a local pamphlet in which he had been published.
He caught some of the most magnificent photos of my grandparents a couple of years before they passed away, feeding the ducks at a local park and one where grandma was giving my pappy a smooch on the cheek. Pictures, in my world, are priceless because not only do they capture those moments, but they also connect me to the one person I miss most in the world. I wish he was here to give me pointers or to speak photo nerd with me, but I’ll have to satisfy that need some other way.
For me this isn’t just a camera; it’s a right of passage in my family and a connection to my uncle that I seem to find here more than anywhere else. I may end up doing little more with it than snapping an inordinate amount of photos of my kids, but just that will bring me enormous peace. I can’t wait!
Sidebar. The hubby just came in, “Whacha workin’ on?” I told him I was writing TWO blogs this morning, one of which was about the camera and why it is important to me, to which he replied, “Are you writing about how awesome your husband is?”
“Yes, dear. You made it into the first paragraph.”
What a difference a few years makes. Now you know why I have left behind corporate America to become a full-time photographer. It was the start of something wonderful. I miss you, uncle, with every flick of the shutter. But you will always be in my heart. Always.